


Suspension

by throwupsparkles



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: American Mary AU, Body Modification, Dark, Gore, Hallucinations, Horror, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Sexual Content, blood kink? (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwupsparkles/pseuds/throwupsparkles
Summary: "I thought you were like me.”Frank exhales loudly, his chest heaves up and down. And he just stares at Gerard for a moment before whispering, “What?”Gerard frowns and looks down at the floor. “I thought you could see the beauty in the horror.”
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 32
Kudos: 95





	Suspension

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this as a chaptered fic a while back, but ended up taking it down to rework it into a one shot. 
> 
> I'm not new to writing gore, but this fic gets pretty dark and gory so continue at your own caution. I know this will not be everyone's cup of tea, but I like to push the limits a bit in my writing and explore different topics. American Mary (2012), directed by the Soska Sisters, is one of my favorite horror films and got me interested in the world of body modification. While my knowledge is limited, I did try to research as much as possible and consult my friend who's in med school to make this as accurate as possible, though of course there are going to be some exaggerations. 
> 
> Please keep an open mind, and if you're not a fan of the content matter, don't leave hate comments. Just find a different fic that you're more comfortable with.

Gerard climbs the wooden stairs and pushes against the heavy door, greeted by moody music and strobe lighting. Gerard has to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer environment, then drags his feet to the bar and collapses on a bar stool.

Mikey grins at him. “Long day?”

Gerad just grunts, so Mikey sets a mug in front of him and fills it with coffee.

“Yum,” Gerard sighs and Ray comes up from behind Mikey, shaking his head. 

“He doesn’t need more caffeine, he needs _sleep_ ,” Ray says, taking the mug away and walking away to help other customers at the bar. 

Gerard makes grabby hands. “No fair.”

Mikey laughs. “Sorry, Ray has spoken. Get going. You have an early consultation tomorrow.”

Gerard rests his forehead on the bar. “Why do you do this to me, Mikey?”

“Stop being so good at what you do and you’ll get less clients,” Mikey says.

Gerard just groans.

He feels Mikey pat his head. “Off to bed. I’ll be home in a couple hours.”

Gerard sighs heavily, thinking about how far away home actually is. 

“Go home, you’re not sleeping in your office again,” Mikey says as if he can read his mind. 

Gerard takes a deep breath, then sits up. “Ok, ok. I’m going. See you in the morning.”

“I better not find you sitting at the computer when I get home either. Sleep. Not more coffee and work.”

“You’re starting to sound like Ray.”

Mikey shoots him his best intimidating look. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Gerard sighs and scoots off the bar stool. 

The drive to his and Mikey’s house isn’t a long one, maybe ten minutes, but it feels like it stretches beyond his comprehension on nights like these. Nights like these where he’s bone tired after slicing, stretching, and sewing. Nights where it feels like he can never wash the blood fully from his hands. 

He pulls up to the house and sags over his steering wheel, wondering if he can even make it inside. He decides the backache isn’t worth the laziness, so he forces himself to walk to the front door. He doesn’t turn on any lights, just walks through the dark rooms like second nature and makes it to his room in the basement. Mikey and Gerard bought their parent’s house after they announced they wanted to retire to Florida and Gerard was more than happy to move back into the cave he created when he was a teenager. 

“You’re really pushing this vampire vibe you have going,” Mikey had chuckled.

Gerard just liked the dark and cool atmosphere. It didn’t make him feel like he was suffocating under lights and damp, stuffy air. 

Gerard toes off his shoes and falls onto his bed fully dressed in his blood splattered clothes. Mikey always told him to wear scrubs, but Gerard refused. He didn’t know how to explain that he _liked_ the blood following him home after a day of surgery. He knew there was something broken in his mind, he just felt more in his skin with the gore surrounding him. He loved watching the knife dip into flesh and release slow trickles of red stream. Loved pushing and stretching skin to new shapes, thought it was fascinating what you could do to the body. How far could you push it. 

He knew when he started med school that he wasn’t like the other students. They were so clinical, forced to be removed from their patients and taught to just see the body as a puzzle that needed to be solved. Gerard could never detach like that. He became mesmerized by each body he met, zoning out during surgery practicums because he could just imagine all that he could do. 

After his board exam, he didn’t apply to any hospitals and at first it had worried Mikey. He really hit rock bottom, because he just didn’t know what he wanted to do. He knew, fucking knew that he was meant to do something big. Save lives. But maybe not in the literal sense. And that pressure that he put on himself drew him mad. 

Gerard would drink himself to a stupor and pop prescription pills he’d force the slips for. Anything to dull the constant pain of insignificance. Apathy. That dull pain that really made you ache everyday. 

It took Gerard almost overdosing on cocaine, the pills not doing it for him anymore, for Mikey to finally step in. Gerard can’t think about that night much without his heart going into an overshock. He just remembers how it felt like his brain was trying to drop down his spine. His eyes felt heavy and it seemed like he was going to fall backwards at any moment. His breath, quick and shallow. His heart, aching. 

Mikey found him gripping the kitchen counter, trying not to fall.

“Gee, Gerard,” he had whispered, hanging onto him and anchoring him to this world, “I’m not letting you go.”

And then it was days of skin peeling hell. Gerard hunched over the toilet spewing the contents of his stomach and mind. It felt like he was puking his dark twisted thoughts and insecurities, really staring at them in the toilet bowl. Afraid that they had ever existed within him before he reached up with a shaky hand and flushed them away. 

Mikey thought that would be the worst of it. Detoxing. Listening to his brother puke and beg. Sob self-inflicting insults and scream biting accusations.

“You want me to die so you can finally get out of my shadow,” he had spit out at Mikey when Mikey had refused to let him cave back into his addiction. Mikey just blinked back his tears and smoothed Gerard’s crazed hair off his sweaty forehead. “I’m not letting you go.”

Mikey thought that if he got him through the detox, he’d get his brother back. But, the month after he got clean, Gerard hid in his basement, practicing his stitches on raw turkey carcasses.

Mikey finally had enough and drug Gerard out with Ray one night.

“You need to stop sulking around and stitching up every poultry item I bring home,” Mikey had said, “And you need to learn to trust yourself again.”

Gerard had reluctantly sulked behind Mikey and Ray all night as they club hopped, sipping red bulls mixed with Sprite. Mikey and Ray always found their way to the dancefloor, swaying and losing themselves in the heavy bass. Gerard sighed and went to the bar to get another drink, lifting his hand to get the bar keeper’s attention. When she made her way over, Gerard had lost the words he wanted to say. She had her purple hair piled up on her head, revealing pointy ears with lobes stretched to their limit. 

“Wow,” Gerard had breathed, “Your ears are…”

She smiled knowingly. “Thanks.”

“How? Did you get implants or did you have surgery?”

“Surgery,” She answered.

“I’m a med student, um doctor now I guess. Can I look?” Gerard had asked, too fascinated to consider if he was being creepy. 

But, she had smiled and leaned near him so he could look. From up close he could trace his eyes along the unnatural shape, see where the surgeon had cut away at the helix. 

“Beautiful,” he had breathed. 

And so when Mikey had finally found him at the bar, talking to the girl with elf ears, he turned and grinned, whispered, “I know what I want to do.”

It was a hard practice to get into though. There weren’t many shops that wanted, or _needed_ a body modification surgeon. He called around to tattoo shops and a lot of them sounded disgusted even, which really confused Gerard. He spent hours on the computer looking at all the ways people pushed their bodies and the social norm. 

Mikey and Ray had come down to his basement one day with a proposition. 

“A club?” Gerard had asked, incredulous.

Mikey nodded. “Yeah, why do you think Ray and I club hop so often? We were getting ideas, checking out the scene.”  
Gerard hummed. 

“Ray and I will run the club and bar. You can open your practice downstairs.”

When they were kids, Mikey and Gerard used to get into a lot of trouble. It wasn’t anything horrible, just the kind of mischief that two boys with too big imaginations would find themselves in.

Most of the time, it was Gerard who got them into trouble. He had too many ideas and not enough patience to think them through, which generally led to Mikey and him standing in front of their parents apologizing for trying to turn their basement into an aquarium or something stupid like that. 

But, Mikey never backed down from Gerard’s crazy ideas. He would just stick his pinky out and Gerard would hook his around it.

They were in this together, no matter what. 

Sometimes, it was Mikey who came up with the wacky ideas, and when that happened it was either the best thing that happened to the brothers, or the worst. 

Gerard still hasn’t decided which outcome he thought the club would bring, just that he had hooked his pinky around Mikey’s instantly.

Because he was always all in with Mikey. 

*

“Gerard,” he hears.

Movement.

“Gerard,” he hears, more forceful. 

“Gerard groans and tries to disappear further into the mattress.

“You need to get going, your consultation is in half an hour,” Mikey says. 

Gerard presses his face into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“Who the fuck...you know what? Nevermind. Ok, I’m getting up.”

Mikey hovers until Gerard actually gets out of bed, staring at his closet like it’s the enemy. “I hate mornings.”

“I’ve got coffee brewing upstairs,” Mikey says hopefully. 

Gerard manages a smile. “Ok, ok.”

He shoos Mikey away and grabs clothes before reluctantly getting into the shower. He closes his eyes and stands under the warm stream, sighing. He always hated showering, but once he actually got in the shower he really appreciated the steamy cocoon. He opens his eyes and sees blood. Streaky, stained porcelain tiles. Red hot liquid shooting from the shower head, coating him. He feels it on his skin, thicker than water. There’s some leaking between his lips, coating his tongue with metallic. 

And then he blinks.

And it’s gone. 

Gerard gets out of the shower quickly, wraps a towel around his waist and collapses on the toilet seat lid. He buries his face in his hands and focuses on slowing his erratic breathing. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s ok, ok. You’re not crazy. There’s nothing wrong with you. 

Your brain is broken.

“Gee?” Mikey calls through the door, knocking softly. “Hey, you’re going to be late.”

“Yeah,” Gerard croaks, “Coming.”

*

He is late for his consultation, but only by about ten minutes. He pulls up to the club and sees another car sitting in the parking lot, loud punk music and smoke leaking through the cracked window. Gerard gets out, huddling in his leather jacket, and goes over to tap on the window.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” He says.

The man in the car jumps, too into his music to have noticed Gerard at first. He turns the dial with gloved fingers. “Sorry?”

“Um,” Gerard says, suddenly shy because the man turns and looks at him and Gerard forgets to _breathe_. He arches a perfectly shaped brow over his hazel eyes. “Sorry, I was running late. I’m Gerard.”

The name sparks recognition to his face and he nods. “Oh, yeah no worries, man. I’m Frank.”

Gerard nods back. “Yeah, so, do you want to come inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Shit,” Frank says rolling up his window and turning off the car. He gets out and tugs his jacket closer to him. “Sorry, yeah let’s go.”

Gerard leads them into the club, aware of the warmth following closely behind him. He motions for Frank to take a seat at one of the bar tables. “Want something to drink? I’m going to put on some coffee, but I have soda and juice too if you prefer.”

“Coffee is good.”

Gerard nods. Coffee is good. 

Gerard goes around turning on all the lights then makes his way behind the bar to start the coffee. He pops in Mikey’s office to grab Frank’s folder, flipping through it quickly. Suspension rings? Gerard hums, that’s not something he would have pegged on this guy. He doesn’t even have his ears pierced. 

Gerard makes his way back to the bar and pours them two mugs of coffee. He tucks the foulder under his arm, then joins Frank at the table. 

“Thanks,” he says. 

“So,” Gerard says, taking a sip of his third cup of the morning. “Tell me about yourself.”

Frank smirks over his mug. 

Gerard grins. “I like to get in the mind of my clients. Helps me understand what they’re looking for and if it’ll work out for them. I don’t take these modifications lightly. And I don’t do this for the money. I want to make sure you really want what you’re asking me to do.”

Frank’s smirk is gone and he nods, setting down the mug. “Yeah, ok. So I work at a music label, just an indie one in town here, but we do all right. The music scene in Jersey is plentiful, so we’re always busy. I play guitar and have a couple of different projects with some bands.”

Gerard nods, “So you don’t have to worry about following a dress code. That’s nice.”

Frank grins. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and _motherfuck_ he has a lot of tattoos. Frank’s wearing a white button down, but it’s tight enough that the designs bleed through. He must catch him staring, because he rolls up his sleeves. “Yeah,” he just says again, pulling off the gloves he was wearing, exposing more ink.

Gerard never got a tattoo, but he was fascinated by them. He was scared of needles as a kid, and had to have nurses talk him through breathing exercises during vaccinations. But, his fear morphed into fascination. His eyes traced over Frank’s tattoos and he felt like he was transported, holding a heavy gun in his hands, wiping down the ink and blood that would rise out of Frank’s skin. Then he’d push the gun back down and watch the bundle of needles pulverise the skin, stamping in his design over and over again. Marking him. 

“So not a stranger to body modification,” Frank says softly, breaking Gerard out of his trance. 

Gerard opens the folder and pulls out his application. “You want suspension rings?”

Frank nods. 

Gerard sets down the paper and looks at Frank. Traces over his careful expression. He’s been doing this for long enough to sniff out the liars. The ones who aren’t able to handle this. He leans back in his chair, Frank is one of those. 

“Tell me why you want it.”

Frank shifts in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. “I um, I just really think that it’s a great way to express myself and let me be my own person.”

Gerard scoffs, and Frank winces a bit with wide eyes.

“Tell me really,” Gerard says.

Frank sighs and pulls out a cigarette pack. “Can I smoke in here?”

Gerard gets up and grabs an ashtray from the bar. He sets it down on their table and lights a cigarette of his own. 

Frank takes a drag and says, “So it’s my boyfriend’s idea.”

Oh. _Oh_. 

Gerard feels a stir of jealousy wiggle in his stomach, but he says, “I see.”

Frank taps his cigarette at the ashtray and nods. He rolls the end of his cigarette along the rim, lost in thought. His eyes glazed over, mouth slightly ajar. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you,” Gerard says softly.

Frank’s head shoots up with panicked eyes. “What? Why?” 

Gerard hates saying no to clients, is weighted heavy with guilt when he sees their broken expressions. “You don’t really want this.”

Frank nods. “No. No, I really do.”

“Do you even know much about the body modification world?”

Frank wiggles his tattooed fingers.

Gerard smiles softly. “Besides tattoos. You’re asking me to implant metal rings into your back,” he says, “And you don’t even have your ears pierced.”

Frank shrugs. “Ok, so pierce my ears if it means that much to you.”

Gerad chuckles. “No, Frank, that’s not my point. I don’t think you understand what you’re getting into here. You’re altering your body, not just covering it up with art. You are changing its shape and formation. You’re cutting into your skin, stretching it and implanting something that does not belong there.”  
Frank shivers slightly at Gerard’s description. 

“I want this,” Frank whispers, letting his cigarette gather ash on the tip, “I, my boyfriend isn’t, I mean, this is my choice. I don’t feel like my body is mine sometimes. I mark it up to claim it. This is mine. But, I’m floating again. I need something to ground me.”

Gerad lets out a shaky breath. “And this is going to ground you?”

Frank nods and finally ashes before putting the cigarette back up to his trembling lips. “Yes,” he says.

Gerard drains the rest of his coffee, thinking. “Ok, here’s what I’ll offer. You sit in on three of my surgeries,” he holds up three fingers for emphasis, “three sessions for you to see what you’re going into. If you still want to do this after the third, then I’ll do it.”

Frank sighs, “I don’t really want to wait.”

Gerard shrugs and closes his folder. “Ok, you can find someone else then.”

Frank rolls his eyes. “You know you’re the best in town. Everyone else is a creep.”

You have no idea.

Gerard shrugs again and moves like he’s about to leave. 

“Ok, ok. Wait, fine I’ll do it.”

Gerard grins.

“Just three?” Frank asks.

And Gerard nods. “Let’s look at your schedule.”

*

Gerard is still buzzing when Frank leaves. He goes down to his basement, because he can’t go home yet. His hands need to work on something because they can’t stop shaking. He gets like this sometimes, too overwhelmed. His hands will start to shake, his heart will race, and his brian will move too fast. 

Anxiety is what Mikey says. “You’ve been through a lot, Gee. You’re still processing.”

Gerard doesn’t buy it. There’s something wrong with him. 

He moves through his office and into the makeshift operating room. He walks over to the sink that’s nestled in the corner and starts to fill a bucket full of hot water, dumping bleach into it as well. He’s on his knees scrubbing the tiled floor when he hears Mikey’s footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Gee?”

Gerard lifts off his hands and leans back on his folded calves. “Operating room.”

Mikey comes in and hides his nose in the crook of his elbow. “Dude, how haven’t you passed out from those fumes?”

Gerard quirks up his eyebrow, he hadn’t even noticed. “Just sanitizing.”

Mikey holds his gaze for a moment. “Come upstairs so I can actually breathe,” he says. 

Gerard drops his scrub brush into the bleach bucket and trails behind Mikey up the stairs. 

“So?” Mikey asks, going to the bar and pouring Gerard a Coke Zero.

“Hmm?” Gerard hums, wrapping his lips around the straw.

“How did the consultation go?” Mikey says a bit slowly, like Gerard is out of it.

He kinda is, but he’s coming back to his body.

“Oh,” Gerard says and frowns, “Why did you push him through? He is not into this lifestyle.”

Mikey huffs, “he seemed genuine. And you need to stop being judgmental. You’re a body modifier with not even a tattoo or piercing.”

Gerard shrugs. “Not for me.”

“Right, so how would anyone who looked at you know you were a modifier? How would you feel if someone dismissed your talent because you didn’t look the part?”

“Fair enough,” he says, shrugging, “But he doesn’t even want the rings, his _boyfriend_ does.”

“Why did you say boyfriend like that?”

“Because what kind of boyfriend pushes that?”

“You’re being judgmental again,” Mikey points out. “You talked for him for what? Half an hour and you have all these assumptions.”

Gerard sighs. “I just know. I see these clients all the time. I can tell which ones are serious about this lifestyle and others who are just lost and trying to cling to something. Frank is lost.”

“So you denied him?”

Gerard shakes his head, thinking about the sad look on his face. “No, I, fuck, I couldn’t. I struck him a deal.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says sipping his drink, sorta proud of himself, “I told him he needs to sit in on some surgeries first.”

Mikey nods. “Not a bad idea. Though, I don’t think he’s squeamish.”

“That’s not the reasoning,” Gerard insists, “At least not entirely. I want him to see the clients who are _sure_ enough to do the things they do to their bodies.”

Mikey frowns at him. “Your hands are shaking again.”

Gerard sighs and moves his hands under the bar so Mikey can’t see. 

“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?” Mikey asks softly. 

Gerard doesn’t agree or disagree, he doesn’t really need to. Mikey can always see right through him. 

“Gee, you need to take a break,” Mikey says, “Maybe cancel your appointments for--”

“No,” Gerard says quickly, “I need to, Mikey, it _helps_.”

Mikey doesn’t look convinced. “I just think it’s getting to you. You work too much. When you’re not in surgery, you’re doing consultations or you’re on the computer. You need to rest. Remember what we talked about being overwhelmed?”

Gerard frowns at his soda. “I haven’t had an attack in awhile, Mikey. I’m doing ok.”

Mikey reaches out and pulls his hands from under the table, squeezes it between his. “This is what happened last time. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking out.”

“I have a broken brain,” Gerard breathes, “I’m handling it.”

“You’re not broken,” Mikey says harshly. 

Sometimes it felt like Mikey was the older brother and that Gerard was the kid brother. He felt like Mikey was just so much bigger than him. In the sense that he could walk into a room and Gerard would feel more at ease, would feel protected. Mikey had this way of making him feel that he was safe even when the blood coated his mind. 

“Gerard,” Mikey said and waited for Gerard to focus back on him, “You are not broken.”

Gerard smiles and pulls his hand back, the shaking has stopped. 

*

Frank comes to his tongue splitting procedure first. Gerard thought it was a pretty easy procedure to ease Frank into things. The main thing was the bleeding.

Frank shows up about half an hour early, bouncing around outside the club. Gerard typically scheduled procedures before the club opened, so that his clients would have privacy. Sometimes they would stack up too much that he had to push some appointments later on in the day. Today was one of those days. He had spent all day in consultations and had one procedure in which he was asked to remove a woman’s nipples. 

“Hey,” Gerard says, getting out of his car. He has a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a cigarette in another. “Sorry, I needed to grab food and this place doesn’t deliver. They have the best spring rolls though, so it’s worth it I promise.”

Frank just smiles. “That’s fine man, really.”

Gerard tosses his cigarette and unlocks the club, leading Frank inside. Gerard sets them up at a table. “Soda?”

“Coke please,” Frank says.

Gerard nods and grabs their drinks. He heads back to the table and sets Frank’s soda in front of him. “You’re not squeamish right? Like you think it’s ok for you to eat before?”

Frank grins and pulls out his container of rice. “I’ll be fine. I watch slasher films while eating dinner all the time.”

Gerard smirks as he holds out the bag of veggie spring rolls. “It’s different seeing it in real life.”

He just shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out then.”

Gerard laughs a bit and takes a bit of his sour chicken. “It’s actually good you’re here for this one. I need a second person for part of it. I usually ask Mikey, so he’s glad you’re here too.”

Frank’s face pales a bit. “Help?”

Gerard looks up and holds his hands up. “Oh! It’s nothing. I just need you to hold one of the clamps while I stitch up her tongue.”

Frank takes a bite of spring roll hesitantly. 

Gerard grins a bit. “You could always back out.”

“No, no,” Frank says, “I’m fine.”

Gerard nods and takes sips of his soda.

“How did you get into this?” Frank asks. 

Gerard debates which version of the answer he should give him. There’s the one that is half true; that he was introduced to body modification by a pretty girl in a bar and his fascination drove him to a new career field where his medical schooling wouldn’t be a complete waste. Or, that he was spiraling out of control after he recently got sober and the only thing that made his hands steady was to stick his scalpel into something.

“I wasn’t really sure what to do after med school,” he ends up saying, settling for somewhere in the middle, “I kind of got into trouble for a bit and I had no direction until I found this community.”

Frank pauses, like he’s processing that vague answer and looking for some hidden message. “What were you on?” He ends up asking.

Gerard inhales sharply. No one ever really asks him that after he mentions his sobriety, most people are overly cautious. At first he thought it was out of politeness, but then he had the sinking feeling everyone thought that just mentioning it would send him into a relapse. 

“Alcohol,” Gerard says, “and pills. Also coke for a bit there at the end.”

Frank just nodded. “How long?”

“About four years now.”

Frank smiles, impressed. “Is it hard working in a club?”

Sometimes. Gerard shrugs, “It comes and goes. But, mostly goes.”

Frank grins and nods. “Good.”

Gerard sighs and looks at his watch. “We should get going. Are you finished?”

Frank nods intently and helps Gerard clean up. Gerard can feel the nerves radiating off of him, and he gets it. He remembers his first procedure, how his heart was pounding and his hands were shaking so hard Mikey forced a beta blocker down his throat. His mind had been wired like it was when he did lines of coke off the back of a toilet in a sleazy club. But, as soon as he picked up the scalpel, his mind stilled and his breathing grew heavy and dense. And when he dipped into her ear, the blood coating the blade, he felt at home. 

He has an urge to take Frank’s hand when they walk down the steps, like he wants to protect him and show him his treasure chest all at once. He wants to let him in on the secret, but not all the way. Wants him to share the stillness, but doesn’t want to corrupt him.

Gerard leads them through his office, which is a small room with too much paperwork and smells like cigarette smoke. He tries not to watch Frank look around to take in his surroundings until he brings them into the operating room. Then, he turns and watches Frank.

Frank stares at the hospital bed in the center of the room for a long moment, and Gerard swears he sees a tremor run through his body. Then he looks at the metal tray set up next to the bed and the utensils on top. Frank reaches out to touch the scalpel and Gerard catches his hand before he gets the chance.

They both stare at Frank’s inked hand in Gerard’s pale one for a moment, before Gerard releases him. “You don’t want to contaminate it,” he says softly.

Frank nods. “Oh.”

He walks around the perimeter of the room, stares at the mirrors on one end, then makes it to the sink and pokes at the different cleaning solutions that Gerard keeps there. 

“Are you creeped out yet?” Gerard asks.

Frank turns and smiles slowly. “Is that the point of this? That you’ll scare me out of getting the suspension rings?”

Gerard opens his mouth to answer, but there’s a buzz.

“The door,” Gerard explains. “Can you do me a favor and wash your hands, then put on some gloves that are over there by the sink? There’s face masks there too.”

Frank just nods and Gerard waits for him to move to the sink before going upstairs. 

Wendy is a repeat client of his. He had done subdermal implants on her cheekbones to give her face a more extraterrestrial look that she was craving. Today, she was going to get her tongue split. 

“Hey, Gerard,” she says brightly.

Gerard reaches out and pulls her into a hug. “Hey, Wendy. Come in out of the cold.”

He leads her into the club and offers her a drink, to which she declines. “I’m too excited. I just want to get going.”

Gerard laughs softly. “Understandable. I have someone shadowing me today, is that going to be alright?”

Wendy nods. “Oh, sure! Like an apprentice?”

Gerard nods, it’s an easier explanation. “Yeah, he’s going to help out a bit.”

“Cool,” she says with a grin, showing her frenulum piercing.

When they get to the bottom of the steps, Frank has his gloves on and a mask around his neck, and it does something to Gerard. His eyes trace over the ink that is bleeding through his blue latex gloves, tight against his skin. That will have blood dripping off it in a moment. Gerard darts his eyes up to Frank’s who sort of quirks up an eyebrow. 

Gerard feels his cheeks burn and he clears his throat. “Um, Wendy, this is Frank, he’s going to be helping us out today.”

Frank goes to shake her hand, then remembers his gloves and sort of just hovers for a minute before opting for a quick wave, “Hey,” he greets with a smile. Gerard feels his heart flutter, and it’s not because of the anxiety. 

“Right,” Gerard says, “Wanna get comfortable?” 

Wendy nods and hops up on the hospital bed, the protective paper crinkling under her movements. Gerard goes over to the sink and washes his hands. His breathing usually slows at this point, his vision tunnels to his task. But that’s not happening yet, he’s too aware of Frank in the room. He watches his hands move under the water and tries to breathe the way Mikey showed him when he was nearing an attack. He puts on his gloves and mask then moves over to Wendy and Frank.

“Ready?” He asks Wendy and she nods enthusiastically.

“You?” He asks Frank and he nods, just not as enthused. 

Gerard picks up the local anesthetic and a syringe. He feels Frank’s eyes on him as he pulls the plunger and watches the liquid move up the measurements. He taps at it and pushes the lever down a bit to clear some liquid. He goes over to Wendy.

“All right, Sweetheart,” he says softly, smiling at her excitement. 

Wendy opens her mouth and Gerard grabs a metal clamp and puts it around the tip of her tongue, pulling it farther out of her mouth gently. He dips the needle into the muscle and pushes down slowly with his thumb until all the liquid is gone.

“Frank?” He asks.

“Yes?” He answers quietly.

“There’s a small metal bowl on the tray, can you hold it under her face here?” He asks.

Frank appears next to him holding the bowl and Gerard is oddly proud that Frank’s hands aren’t shaking. Gerard keeps the clamp in place and reaches over to grab his scalpel. He looks at Wendy with a raised eyebrow and her eyes brighten, so he cuts in.

And there’s blood. 

Lots of blood.

Frank looks surprised at how much blood, he misjudged his placement of the bowl and gets a trickle on his gloved fingers. Gerard lets himself stare at the red liquid nestling on Frank’s fingers before getting back to work. He moves to clamp down on the left side of her split tongue.

“Hold this please,” Gerard whispers to Frank. 

Frank shifts his hands so that he can hold the bowl and the clamp. Gerard pulls the tray on wheels closer to him. Keeping the clamp in place, he picks up his needle with the needle driver and begins his first stitch. He watches the needle dip into the pinky mass and find its way through to the other side.He loves the pull of stitching wounds. Loves to feel the soft resistance as the needle goes through the muscle, then the tug of the thread as he pulls up. 

“You have to suture the cut apart,” Gerard says softly to Frank, “So it doesn’t heal back together.”

He looks up and catches Frank gazing at Gerard’s handy work with awe. His hazel eyes flicker back to meet Gerard and he nods slightly, just to let him know he heard Gerard. Gerard smiles, though Frank can’t see, and dips the driver back into her wound. 

He hears the chime of the club’s front door opening and knows that it’s Mikey coming in to prepare the club for opening. And, he’s there to get Wendy pain meds. 

“Alright,” he says, releasing the clamp and looks to Frank, motioning for him to release his as well. “You are all set.”

Wendy grins, keeping her tongue out.

Gerard chuckles. “Ok, so aftercare. You’ll want to stick to mushy food for a bit and you won’t be able to really talk much, so keep a pad of paper and pen around. I suggest you rinse your mouth with salt water fairly frequently to keep everything sanitized in there, otherwise it’s a pretty easy healing process. I heard Mikey walk in, so you can go see him for the pain meds.”

She wraps her arms around him and holds him close for a moment, before getting off the hospital bed. 

“You need help, or are you ok?” He asks.

She holds a thumb up and makes her way up the stairs. 

Gerard turns to Frank and moves his mask down to his chin. “So?”

Frank pulls his mask off as well, forgetting about the blood on his hands and smearing it. “Wow.”

Gerard grins because Frank looks blissed out. “Yeah,” he says softly, watching his glazed eyes slowly become more focused. His flushed cheeks start to lose their color and his parted lips close. He looks like a man coming down from an orgasm. 

Their eyes meet again, and he _knows_ that he looks similar. He feels it in the way his limbs have that slack feeling they always do after a procedure. But, this one was different. More intense. Because Frank was there. 

Gerard goes over to the sink to remove his gloves and mask, then washes his hands. He feels Frank come next to him and remove his gloves as well, a streak of red dances across his inky flesh and Gerard bites his lip to keep an appreciative sigh from slipping out. 

“So,” Frank says slowly, looking up Gerard swears Frank’s staring at his lips “that didn’t scare me off.”

Gerard is too aware of how cornered he is at the moment. He leans back and his spine connects with the sink, Frank unconsciously takes a step forward putting next to no distance between them. Gerard can smell cigarette smoke and something cinnamon wafting off him. He’s cornered, but he doesn’t feel like the prey.

“Just wait,” he whispers. 

*

Frank comes by the club sooner than the date they’ve scheduled his second sit-in. Gerard is sitting at the bar drawing on bar napkins to keep his mind busy and stop his hands from shaking. Mikey keeps feeding him water like it’ll calm him down, and to be fair, sometimes it does. Just not today.

He didn’t have any procedures today, just a lot of prep work which always makes him...itchy. 

Frank hops up on the bar stool next to him, and Gerard has to fight back a grin at the way Frank’s feet don’t touch the floor. Mikey comes over and smiles. “Rum and Coke again?”

Frank hesitates and says, “Just the Coke.”

Gerard stiffens. “You can drink around me. I’m sitting at a bar, it’s kinda expected.”

He watches Frank’s cheeks turn pink. “It’s ok, really,” Frank says, “I’d kinda feel like a dick.”

Mikey comes back with his Coke. “He gets weird when people care,” Mikey says and Gerard glares at him, “He’s used to assholes.”

Frank sips his soda. “Ah, makes sense.”

“What?” Gerard asks, “What do you mean?”

Frank grins at him. “You have this self-deprecating thing.”

Mikey nods solemnly. “You do.”

Gerard scribbles in the corner of his napkin because his hands are getting really shaky now. “Do not.”

Mikey notices his hands. “Ok, Gee,” he says lightly, reaching out to squeeze the hand holding the pen. Gerard glances at Frank, who really doesn’t look that weirded out. And Gerard wonders just how transparent he really is to everyone. 

Mikey hangs on until the tremor stops then he gives his hand another squeeze before walking away to tend to his actual customers. 

“Seems like a nice kid,” Frank says.

And that makes Gerard snort, because he always just thought Mikey looked like a kid no matter how old he actually was. He just exuberates “kid brother” vibes.

“What are you drawing?” Frank asks, pulling the napkin over to him. Gerard makes a feeble attempt at keeping the napkin, but Frank had taken him a bit by surprise. Frank smiles at the bats who are fighting over a zombie head.

“Doesn’t make much sense,” Gerard mumbles. 

“Doesn’t really have to, does it?” Frank counters.

Gerard shrugs and takes the drawing back, adding nonsense into the background of the figures. 

Frank lets him sit in silence for a moment longer before, “So, I want you to pierce my ears.”

Gerard laughs, a full belly laugh that he hasn’t felt in awhile. “What?”

“You said it was weird that I wanted the rings when I didn’t even have my ears pierced, so pierce them.”

Gerard turns in his stool to look at him. “You’re still sitting through the two surgeries we have scheduled.”

Frank grins. “I know, you’re really fucking stubborn.”

Gerard grins back. In another life, he would probably ask Frank out now. The attraction is definitely there, he could feel it dripping from his mind when they were in the operating room. And, that thought makes him say, “Ok, let’s go.”

“Now?” Frank squeaks.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Gerard asks, eyebrow raised. 

Frank hesitates but knocks back his soda like it had alcohol in it and gets up. “Yeah, ok.”

Gerard follows Frank down the steps and into the operating room this time, watching him walk confidently with no trace of the apprehension he had the other day. 

Frank hesitates by the operating table and Gerard starts to get it. It’s not just piercing his ears for shits and giggles. Frank wants to test himself and see if he can handle being on Gerard’s table. 

Gerard doesn’t say anything, he just walks over to the sink and washes his hands before covering them in gloves. Then he goes and pulls out his utensils, just a clamp and needle. Then he pulls a pouch with basic studs in them over. 

“Those are boring,” Frank says, trying to make light of the situation. 

Gerard grins. “I don’t usually do piercings, so my selection is limited.”

Frank nods and hoists himself up on the table, the paper crinkling in the quiet room. Gerard pulls a pen out and then grins at Frank. “You look kinda nervous.”

Frank laughs. “It’s just pierced ears.”

Gerard nods. “It is,” he says slowly.

Frank lets out another nervous laugh and looks down at his knees. “It’s kinda weird being in here after the last surgery. And sitting here.”

There it is.

“It’s ok to be afraid.” 

“I’m not afraid,” he says defiantly, “I just, it’s…”

Gerard just nods and stands in front of him so he can look at the best place to mark his ears. He leans in and presses his pen down to Frank’s right earlobe, but Frank flenches and Gerard backs up before he gets ink all over Frank’s ear. 

“Sorry,” Frank says, blushing.

Gerard smiles warmly and brings his free hand up to rest on the back of Frank’s neck. He rubs into the muscles there soothingly before saying, “Tell me about playing guitar.”

Gerard knows the tricks to get clients to calm down, most of the time they just need to focus on something else. Something not in this room. So, Frank starts to ramble on about how he first got a guitar when he was eight and kept playing in front of the TV, watching MTV so he could learn the moves of his favorite artists. Then he talks about all the different bands he’s been in and out of since high school. Gerard makes sure to keep one hand on his neck while he marks up his ears, and he waits until Frank is blissed out on his past rockstar memories before moving to grab the clamp and needle.

Frank takes a deep breath as Gerard puts the clamp around his first earlobe. “Exhale,” Gerard says when he realizes Frank is still holding his breath. He smiles at the sweat that’s gathered in his hairline and leans closer to breath him in. He glances down and watches Frank’s chest rise and fall, a bit too erratically. “Inhale,” Gerard whispers.

Frank does, chest rising.

Gerard waits a beat, then, “Exhale.”

Fall.

“Inhale.”

Rise.

“Exhale.”

Fall.

And the calming sounds of Frank’s breath and the lulling rise and fall of his chest sends Gerard in a trace. He feels himself inhale on Frank’s exhale, breathing him in. Sharing breath. 

Gerard glances at the clamp and moves his needle into position. “Inhale.”

Frank does.

“Exhale,” and as he does, Gerard pushes the needle through. And the sight of the needle penetrating Frank’s skin, makes Gerard bite down on his bottom lip.

“You’re really good at this,” Frank says, almost in a daze.

“Hmm?”

“Keeping people calm,” he clarifies. 

Gerard smiles easy as he sinks the jewelry into Frank’s ear, “It’s important that my clients don’t freak out when I have a scalpel against their skin.”

Frank breathes a laugh, “yeah.”

Gerard screws the jewelry closed then leans back, admiring his handy work. He captures Frank’s eyes. “Ready for the next one?”

Frank smiles, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

Gerard grins. “It wasn’t the pain that had you worked up.”

*

Gerard doesn’t tend to make a habit out of seeing his clients outside of work, but Frank was really adamant about coming to this record release party his label was throwing for one of their newer bands. The problem was that Frank had sorta asked him out, though not really because...boyfriend. But, the pressure still settled in Gerard’s chest like it was a date. 

“What are you doing?” Mikey asks, leaning against the door frame of his room.

Gerard is going through Mikey’s closet trying to find something to wear since most of his clothes have been around since high school. 

“Help me,” Gerard sighs, “I have nothing to wear.”

Mikey chuckles. “You mean to your date?”

“Mikey, he has a boyfriend.”

Mikey’s eyebrows. “Oh I know that, the question is whether or not _you_ know that.”

Gerard huffs and sits on Mikey’s bed. “Please?”

Mikey gives him a small smile and walks to his closet, plucking a few shirts for Gerard to pick from. “How’s the hands?”

“Fine,” he answers quickly.

“Maybe you should see a doctor again,” Mikey says quietly. 

“I’m a doctor,” Gerard mutters.

Mikey turns and tosses Gerard the shirts. “I think you should go with the tight black one, but I know you’ll probably pick the Damon Albarn tee.”

Gerard grins and takes that one. He gets up and kisses his cheek, “Thanks,” and is about to leave, but Mikey snakes his arm around him. 

“You know you can’t keep this up,” Mikey whispers, “You’re going to break down again, and it’s going to be bad.”

“Mikey, it’s fine. It’s just my hands.”

“Is it?” Mikey asks, turning to stare at Gerard. 

Gerard has to look down at the floor, because Mikey can see the lies written all over his face. “Yeah.”

“Why do you even try to lie to me?” He whispers, “Just, please tell me when you start seeing things again. Ok? At least let me know when you start seeing blood everywhere again.”

Gerard nods.

He won’t.

He hasn’t.

*

Gerard hovers outside the venue, finishing another cigarette to help settle the nerves. Which, is really stupid considering he’s spent some pretty up close and personal time with Frank before this. And it’s not a date.

Gerard sighs. He hasn’t been on a date in years. Not since before he got sober, and even then he wouldn’t consider those dates. He doesn’t really think it counts if you can’t remember what the person looked like. But this isn’t a date, so he has no reason to get worked up. 

Except he totally does when Frank walks out to have a smoke break and sees Gerard. “Hey, are you hiding?”

Gerard blushes and takes another drag. “Maybe.”

Frank lights his cigarette. “Hm.”

Gerard can’t help it, he asks, “Where’s the boyfriend?”

Frank laughs a bit uneasy, “Not really his scene.”

Gerard watches the cherry on Frank’s cigarette glow when he takes another drag. “What’s his scene?”

Frank rolls his eyes and ashes before spitting out, “Anywhere I’m not successful.”

Gerard winces and shifts on his feet. 

“Fuck,” Frank says, blowing out smoke, “That sounded kinda bitter huh?”

“Only a little,” Gerard offers gently. 

Frank drops his cigarette and stamps it out. “Ready?”

Gerard puts his cigarette out too and follows Frank inside the venue. It’s a bit jarring to be in Frank’s domain. He walks through with a swagger and everyone nods at him or raises their hand for some form of handshake that Gerard thinks is a bit corny but cool at the same time. Frank leads them to the bar and grins at him. “Coke?”

Gerard shakes his head. “Um, Redbull and Sprite. It’s kinda my mix drink, that's not a mix drink, you know?”

Frank nods and doesn’t make fun of him or anything, which Gerard appreciates. Not that he really thought Frank would, it’s just that gnawing feeling that everyone thinks he’s a loser. That feeling has always been there, but he was able to drown it with alcohol before, now it feels more prevalent. The label ‘alcoholic’ weighs that feeling heavier on the shoulders that Gerard hunches self-consciously. 

Frank hands Gerard his drink and he grins a bit at the cherries. 

“Can’t be a mixed drink without cherries,” he says with a wink.

Gerard sips his drink so he doesn’t say something embarrassing. Frank grins at him over his own drink and takes his hand. “Come on, I want you to see these guys.”

As if on cue, the lights dim and the band comes on stage. They have a decent stage presence, the lead singer is bouncing off the walls and the crowd seems to be into it. Frank drains his drink and tugs Gerard’s hand so that he can drag him into the pit. Gerard’s drink gets knocked out of his hand as soon as the first elbow goes flying. Frank is a force to be reckoned with, he flails around and slams his body into others around him. It looks violent and dirty, but something is very beautiful about the way he moves. Though it’s chaotic, there’s a beat to it. A dance. 

Frank tugs on Gerard again and pulls him into the madness. Gerard tries to get lost in the music like Frank. Tries to feel the same ocean that seems to be sweeping everyone in an angry back and forth. But he can’t. He just feels panic. Feels arms slither across his torso. Feels feet crowd his own. Smells the sweat from too many people, making him dizzy. The lights that are flashing are making his eyes burn. His chest feels like it’s going to cave in. 

He hunches over and tries to take a breath.

His heart is going to explode. 

“Gerard?”

Gerard forces himself to stand and pushes his legs to take him from all the bodies around him. He doesn’t let himself stop until he’s gotten out of the hot, damp venue. 

Frank’s following closely. Gerard pulls out his cigarettes and tries to light one, but his hand is shaking too much. Frank takes the cigarette out of Gerard’s mouth and sticks it in his own, lighting it before handing it back.

Gerard blushes and takes it. “Thanks.”

Frank lights his own. “Sure.” 

He knows that Frank is waiting for Gerard to initiate the conversation, so he sighs and says, “Sometimes I don’t do so great with crowds.”

Frank nods. “That’s ok.”

That simple. Not sarcastic of patronizing. Gerard isn’t the villain or victim in this.

At least not yet. 

*

They end up ditching the rest of the release party to sit in Gerard’s office, demolishing burritos and chips with salsa from this food cart that’s always outside the club on weekends. The echoes of the music leaks down into the room, making Gerard feel like they’re in a hideout fort from the real world. They’re both sitting criss-crossed on the floor giggling at each other’s horrible teen dating stories. It makes Gerard have this tinge of nostalgia that he’s not sure he’s really deserved. 

Frank giggles at Gerard’s horrifyingly cringe worthy story of how he lost his virginity in the soundboard room in his high school. “It was so awkward,” Gerard sighs, “and more so than just your first time. I kept thinking a teacher was going to walk in.”

Frank snorts. “That’s a bold move on your part to begin with.”

“Yeah well,” Gerard says, “your first time is never great.”

Frank just sips his soda. 

Gerard munches on a chip. “Come on, I told you mine.”

Frank blushes. “It was fine I guess.”

Gerard groans. “Oh come on, it was your first time!”

Frank clears his throat. “Yeah, well it was with the guy I’m still seeing.”

Gerard almost chokes on his chip. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Did you, I mean have you guys been together for a long time then?”

Frank blushes more. “Sorta. Like two years.”

Gerard does the math in his head and Frank rolls his eyes. “Lots of people wait. And twenty-three isn’t--”

“Oh, Frank, I wasn’t shaming you for waiting,” Gerard rushes, “I’m just surprised is all.”

Frank narrows his eyes. “Why?”

Gerard blushes this time, grinning a bit, “You just sorta put off this vibe.”

“What, like a whore vibe?”

Gerard howls in laughter. “Oh my God, I didn’t...” Gerard trails off awkwardly.

Frank sighs and leans back against Gerard’s desk, lighting a cigarette. “Look, can I tell you something if you swear to keep it to secrecy?”

Gerard grins. “What are we, fifteen?”

Frank rolls his eyes. “Just don’t judge me for it, I just, I don’t know...I don’t really see what the big deal is.”

“There is no big deal about waiting, really Frank, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Gerard says, “Mikey would kick my ass, he’s always talking about how shitty social constructs are--”

“No, I mean sex. I don’t get the big deal.”

Gerard frowns at that. He’s not a sex God by any means, but, yeah he loves sex. What’s not to love?

“I don’t know,” Gerard says softly, “sex _is_ a big deal to me.”

Frank snorts.

And Gerard giggles, “No, you ass. It’s just”--Gerard sighs and lights a cigarette, because this is definitely a cigarette conversation-- “It’s not just about getting off, you know? Or like an exchange or whatever. It’s…”

“If you say it’s becoming _one_ I’m going to punch you in the dick,” Frank says.

Gerard grins. “No, no, I wasn’t going to say that,” he chuckles, “but it sorta is like that in a way. You’re just so in tune with each other and making them feel good, makes _you_ feel good, right? Like watching his cheeks and chest flush from just the _want_ or, Frankie, come on those tell-tale signs that they’re about to cum and just knowing that you did that to them.” Gerard doesn’t even realize he’s whispering until he feels how thick his voice feels. He tries to smile, but it gets caught up after looking at Frank. His cheeks are tinged pink and his lips seem fuller, wetter. Kissable. 

And there’s this pull in Gerard’s stomach. That twist in his gut that he used to always ignore, the one that told him what needed to be done. He needed to stop shoving coke up his nose. He needed to get out of his basement and pay attention to his brother. 

He _needed_ to kiss Frank.

He doesn’t even realize he’s moving until his hands are on Frank’s cheeks and Frank is staring up at him with wide eyes. 

Please do it.

Please don’t.

Gerard can feel the warmth from his breath against his lips, and it would be such a small movement, barely any energy to kiss him right now. Effortless. 

But that look on his face is the same one he wore during the consultation.

Unsure.

So, Gerard moves back. Whatever magic that was pushing them together dissipates and Gerard sinks away, all too aware of the ash that is falling from Frank’s forgotten cigarette. 

Frank stabs his cigarette out in the ashtray between them. 

Gerard sips his soda.

“I should probably go,” Frank says softly.

Gerard looks up at him, “You really don’t have to. I’m sorry that--”

Frank shakes his head. “Don’t,” he kind of laughs, but there’s no humor to it so it feels like a knife in Gerard’s side, “I, um, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Gerard agrees.

And that makes Frank smile.

“I don’t want this to be a thing,” Gerard says, and winces at his choice of words, “I just mean, I hope you still consider me a professional or whatever.”

Frank bursts out laughing, like falling back on his elbows laughing. And the full sound, the squeaky bit at the tail end of his laugh makes Gerard smile so hard his cheeks hurt. “Yeah ok, not professional. But, you know what I mean.”

Frank scales back to giggles. “Yeah, Gerard, I know what you mean. And we’re fine.”

Gerard nods. “Good.”

“But, I should be going,” Frank says softly.

“Right, the boyfriend.”

Frank winces a bit, “Yeah.”

Walking Frank up the stairs is the worst feeling ever. Gerard just wants to keep him in their own world for a bit longer. Frank hesitates at the door for a moment, then gives Gerard a small smile before slipping out into the cold. Gerard watches the door shut and sighs.

“Still not a date?”

Gerard walks over to the bar and rolls his eyes. “No,” he tells Mikey.

Mikey grins and pours him a soda. “Are you sure? Because I don’t even walk my dates to the door.”

“That’s because you’re a heartless slut,” Gerard mumbles.

Mikey smirks. “You’re just jealous because I have a sex life.”

Gerard groans. “Please, I don’t need to know.”

Mikey shrugs, “Whatever happened, you’re all smiley. So I approve.”

“Thanks, Mikes,” he says softly, picking up the glass of soda and notices his hand isn’t shaking.

*

The week leading up to the second surgery that Frank is supposed to sit on, is hectic to say the least. Gerard is really riled up about this surgery, because it’s not necessarily a routine body modification. But, that’s sort of Gerard’s specialty. While, yes, he does his fair share of split tongues and horn implants, he is known for his imagination. For his open-mindedness. And he _craved_ it. 

He loved when Mikey would give him a file with an almost empty application, Mikey’s scrunched handwriting at the bottom:

**Just talk to them. You’ll do it**

When Gerard was first starting out, he mostly got his clients from Bert. He owned Taste of Ink, the tattoo and piercing studio a few blocks from the club, and always seemed to attract people who liked to live more recklessly. Gerard had originally asked Bert if he was looking for a modifier, and at the time Bert wasn’t interested. They like to joke now that Bert made a big mistake letting him slip out of his reach, because soon Gerard was getting booked out for months. 

In the beginning, Gerard handled all the paperwork and liked to meet each applicant in person, though Gerard typically took every applicant. That soon became problematic after a few people who got modifications had second thoughts and couldn’t have the procedure reversed easily. Gerard hated denying people’s wishes, especially when it came to their creative expression--which is why Gerard is in this mess with Frank to begin with. Because of this, Mikey stepped in and started to screen Gerard’s clients before he even saw them. Mikey never let anyone slip through the cracks, well except for Frank.

“I still think he’s serious,” Mikey says, “He wants this, Gerard.”

Gerard shakes his head as he scribbles more notes from the computer. “He wants to please his boyfriend.”

“How is that any different than people who get their boyfriend’s names tattooed over their asscrack?”

Gerard huffs and sets down his pen. “Most of my procedures aren’t easily reversed. And, that’s not even the point. My procedures...they’re fucking procedures, ok? They’re invasive and they can be traumatizing if you’re not in the right state of mind. Why do you think they make you sign a bunch of shit when you have surgeries in the hospital? It’s to cover the hospital’s ass. I’m not regulated here, Mikey, I don’t technically have a practice. If someone got pissed enough, they could really hurt me, they could hurt _us_.”

Mikey sighs and sits his bony ass on Gerard’s lap. “I know, I’m sorry. I know your practice is everything to you.”

Gerard leans his head against Mikeys’ shoulder. “It saved my life, Mikes, you know that.”

“I do,” he says quietly. 

Mikey tugs gently at Gerard’s hair so he has to look up. “Are you sleeping enough?” Mikey asks.

Gerard shrugs.

“How many hours?”

Gerard shifts his legs so Mikey has to get up. “Enough.”

“Four hours isn’t enough. Especially when you’re performing surgery.”

“I haven’t messed up yet, have I?” Gerard snaps.

Mikey stills.

Gerard rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. Fuck. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“What are you doing the rest of the afternoon?” Mikey asks softly.

“Just going over this procedure for Saturday,” Gerard replies, dropping his hands and looking back at his screen.

Mikey takes the pen from Gerard. “You already know the procedure. What was that study you told me about? The one that talked about studying too much.”

“This isn’t my board exam. This is an actual person.”

“So you should probably listen to the research that says studying too much is bad for your performance,” Mikey says smugly.

Gerard rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” Mikey says, tugging his hand, “Ray is opening tonight, so I don’t have to be in until late. We can have a movie marathon.”

“Evil Dead?”

“Of course.”

Mikey is a crafty motherfucker though, because he knows that the sounds of Ash’s chainsaw will lull Gerard to sleep. All Mikey had to do was put a pillow down on his lap and pull Gerard down, carting his fingers soothingly through his greasy hair. 

“Hate you,” Gerard mumbles sleepily with his eyes closed.

He can feel Mikey’s smirk.

*

They get Chinese food again before the second surgery that Frank is going to watch. He stabs at a piece of broccoli. “So what are we doing today?”

Gerard smiles around his soda, liking Frank’s pronoun choice. “It doesn’t really have a name. It’s not super popular or anything. I couldn’t really find a lot of references online.”

Frank has his fork hovered over his plate. “Well are you just going to leave me in suspense? What’s the procedure?”

Gerard takes a bite of his egg roll and leans back in his chair. “So we’re basically cutting a hole in someone’s cheek so that you can see their teeth.”

Frank hesitates and Gerard _knows_ that the question is bubbled on his lips. 

Why would anyone want to do that?

Gerard smirks at him, waiting and Frank sighs, “Yeah, ok I’ll bite, why?”

Gerard puts down his fork and lights a cigarette, tugging the ashtray closer to him. “It’s self expression, Frankie. It’s, it’s like your tattoos right? Someone could look at you and think, ‘Why would anyone want to put pictures all over their skin?’”

Frank nods.

“Well, Xavier is really no different,” Gerard says, “He’s really in tune with his body. He loves it, and not just on a superficial level you know? He doesn’t like, go to the gym and throw back wheatgrass shots. He likes how his skeleton holds his muscles and flesh together. He wants to celebrate that, wants to see it.”

Frank makes a “hmm” sound and sits back to consider that. “Yeah, that’s pretty rad,” he finally settles on. 

Gerard smiles warmly at him, that proud feeling swelling back in his chest. It’s just been so long since he had someone around him who _got_ this practice like him, besides Mikey. And Mikey didn’t really get into it like Gerard did, he just supported it because it got Gerard interested in something that wasn’t drugs. 

But this was nice, having someone Gerard could talk to about his practice without feeling judged. And, who seemed interested. Gerard wasn’t going to assume anything, Mikey was right that he really needed to work on that, but it seemed like Frank could do this line of work. Gerard shivers at the memory of Frank’s blissed out expression after the tongue splitting procedure. Fuck, Gerard wanted someone to get this. He was so tired of hiding his need for the gore. He was tired of feeling sick for finding comfort in the blood and flesh that he could manipulate. 

Frank’s hand on his makes him jump out of his thoughts. “Are you ok? You seem a bit out of it.”

Gerard thinks he should move his hand from under Frank’s, the warmth seeping into his frigid flesh, but he can’t. He craves Frank in a way he hasn’t in so long. He can’t even remember the last time he _wanted_ someone like he wants Frank. And not even in a sexual way, which to be fair that want is there too. But, he’s just drawn to Frank’s goodness. The way he smiles easy, warm and contagious. His laughter. His passion, how he looked right at home in that pit the other night. How he was able to pull Gerard out of his own mind with just his touch and voice. 

And the way he watched Gerard with intrigue and not fear. 

Gerard turns his hand in Franks, so he can wrap his pale fingers around Frank’s inky wrist. “I’m fine.”

He can feel Frank’s pulse dancing under his fingertips, fitful and fast. 

The door buzzes and Gerard lets go of Frank. 

Frank clears his throat. “I can clean up, if you want to get the door.”

“Thanks,” he says softly, hesitating for a moment before hearing the buzz again. Gerard gets up and greets Xavier, who is still and calm despite the fact that he’s getting a major modification done. Where Wendy was a ball of excitement, Xavier is collected and sure. 

“Hey, Gerard,” Xavier says cooly, coming in from the cold. 

Gerard takes his coat and hangs it on the hooks by the door. “Hey, man. I mentioned that I was going to have help today. This is Frank,” he says when Frank comes over. 

Frank shakes Xavier’s hand. 

“Wow, cool tatts,” Xavier says looking at Frank’s hand, which makes Frank smile widely. 

Gerard grins at them. “Alright, are you guys ready?”

Xavier nods, a smile stretching across his lips. There’s the excitement. Gerard loves these moments before a procedure when he can just watch his clients process what they’re about to do. It’s almost always joy, excitement. Sometimes nerves, but the good kind. 

When Gerard leads them into the operation room, Xavier sits on the operation table without being prompted. Frank goes to the sink and washes up and Gerard just exhales at how this is exactly what he needs. This order. Methodology. 

Gerard goes to the sink and washes his hands, hip checking Frank playfully as he does so and Frank grins. Gerard smiles and puts his mask on, watching Frank’s smile disappear behind his as well. 

Gerard hands Frank the suction tool and Frank frowns, “Why do I always have to handle the blood?”

Gerard grins. “Would you rather do the actual surgery?”

Frank shakes his head and sighs dramatically, but his eyes are playful. 

Gerard goes to Xavier and prepares the local anesthetic. “Alright, bud, I’m going to have you sit back for this,” Gerard says, pulling his tray over near him. He has the operation table set up almost like a dentist chair, where the top is propped up a bit. He coaxes Xavier back so he’s resting at an angle and Gerard has him turn his head before injecting the local. 

He can feel Frank’s nervous energy wafting off him in waves.

Gerard picks up his scalpel and as soon as he feels the cool metal in his hand, his mind zeros in on the procedure, of everything he’s written in his notebook over the last few days. He visualizes the cut before his hands repeat the motion, Xavier’s skin growing sticky and red. Gerard is about to ask for Frank, but he’s already there removing the excess liquid. They move around each other like planets in rotation. Perfectly in sync. 

Gerard removes the flesh from Xavier’s cheek and places it off to the side before gathering his needle driver and clamp. He feels that dizzying euphoria as he watches the thread weave through the wound and stretch the skin back from the void he’s created. 

Gerard finishes his stitches and steps back to look at his work. He smiles and Xavier smiles back, Gerard can see the muscles inside his mouth pull back. 

Gerard hears an echo of himself telling Xavier aftercare instructions, hears it raddle in the crevices of his mind, but he’s too far gone to acknowledge the words themselves. He wonders if he’s slurring. If Xavier and Frank can tell how elated he feels, almost high. 

Frank helps Xavier up the stairs and to Mikey for pain meds, Gerard is sure. Gerard stumbles to the sink, but doesn’t quite make it there. He feels himself stumble to the ground. Sees blood coat the white tiled floor that he just bleached, dripping down the walls.

Gerard’s breath comes out as short spurts. 

He knows that he’s getting bad again. Like before.

Before when he messed up that body modification.

It was his dream procedure. A young man came to him asking to have elongated needles threaded through the tops of his arms and through his knuckles, like Wolverine. Gerard thought he had died and gone to heaven. Wolverine had always been his favorite comic creation, and to be able to bring that to life...was everything to Gerard. He had sat up all night the whole week before the procedure, drawing Aiden’s arms. How it would look after the needles were embedded into his skin.

He did the procedure alone after hours, Mikey had already gone home. He never had rules at the beginning. He just did whatever his clients wanted at whatever hour suited them. Aiden worked two jobs and couldn’t come in until the early hours of the morning. And, Gerard should have slept. He should have taken a Xanax and went to sleep to calm his anxiety, but he hadn’t.

And so when he threaded the fifth needle through, he misjudged his placement and hit the brachial artery.

And there was blood everywhere.

All over the floors, Gerard slipped and fell into it. Saw the blood coat his hands and arms, smear against his jeans. 

And he wasn’t scared.

He was fascinated. 

He couldn’t stop watching it gush out of Aiden’s arm, pouring out along the white paper on the operating table. 

“He’s still down here,” he hears.

“Oh, Gee…”

He feels fingers brush against his pulse, then, “Frank, I need you to go upstairs and bring me the bottle of Propranolol.”

There’s a rush of steps, loud creaks on the wooden planks. 

“Gerard.”

Oh, it’s Mikey.

He blinks and sees Mikey sitting on his knees in front of him. “There he is,” Mikey whispers, reaching out to brush his damp hair off his sweaty forehead.

Gerard can’t talk yet, his chest is too tight and there’s not enough air yet.

“Shh,” Mikey soothes, “Almost.” He takes Gerard’s wrists in his and rubs slow circles with his thumbs. “Easy.”

Gerard holds Mikey’s steady gaze, “You’re ok, shh.”

He sees Frank out of his peripheral, handing an orange bottle to Mikey. Mikey opens it and pulls out a pill before pressing it to Gerard’s mouth. Gerard lets the pill slip between his lips and allows Mikey to tilt his head back and pour water in. Mikey strokes Gerard’s throat, coaxing him to swallow. “Good,” Mikey praises softly. 

Gerard feels his chest loosen and he doesn’t feel as shaky. Mikey watches him come back down and rubs soothingly at the back of his neck. “Coming back to me now?”  
Gerard nods.

“Yeah?” Mikey whispers, “What happened?”

Gerard shakes his head.

“He was just doing the procedure,” Frank offers, “But by the end of it, he just sorta checked out.”

Mikey nods and sighs, “I told you that you needed a break.”

Gerard shrugs. 

“Can you use your words yet?”

“Sorry,” Gerard croaks.

Mikey smiles sadly at him and presses firmer into his neck. “S’okay. I need you to tell me when things are starting to get bad though,” he says gently, “I can’t help if you don’t let me know.”

Gerard nods.

“Words, Gee.”

“Ok,” Gerard says compliantly.

He blinks and is able to look away from Mikey now, takes in his surroundings like he’s forgotten where he was. Not on the floor covered in blood. He’s just sitting on the freshly bleached tiles with Mikey in front of him and...Frank. Oh, God. 

“Frank,” Gerard begins.

“It’s ok,” Frank interrupts, “It’s ok, Gee.”

Gerard wipes his face and tells Mikey, “I’m ready to get up now.”

Mikey nods and stands up, holding out his arms for Gerard to use as a brace to get himself off the floor. His limbs feel tight, but he knows it’s from his episode. 

Gerard keeps his eyes to the floor, not wanting to see how Frank is looking at him. He’s probably never going to talk to him again. That is until he feels Frank pulling Gerard out of Mikey’s arms and into his. He puts a sure hand on the small of Gerard’s back and the other takes Gerard’s hand as he helps him up the steps. 

“I can take him home,” Frank says, “I know you just got here.”

“Are you sure? Ray can watch the bar.”

Frank nods. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Gerard hates the way they’re talking about him like he’s not there, but he supposes it’s deserved. Frank leads him out into the cold, and the bite of the air wakes him up more. He can focus on the pavement beneath his feet, feels it solid under him instead of a wave of uncertainty. 

Frank opens the passenger door and Gerard crawls in. Frank waits until Gerard has buckled himself in before closing the door and coming around to the driver’s side. He starts the car and turns the heat on full blast, turning the vents toward Gerard. Then he lights a cigarette and presses it to Gerard’s lips.

“Thanks,” he whispers, taking it. He takes a drag and exhales loudly.

Frank nods and waits for Gerard to smoke through half before he lights his own and starts the car. 

“I’m just up the road aways. Then in the subdivision behind the DMV,” Gerard says. 

Frank drives in silence, doesn’t even turn on the radio. The only sound comes from the vents and the exhale of smoke. Frank pulls up to the house Gerard points out, so Gerard unbuckles and says, “Thanks.”

He doesn’t expect Frank to turn off the car and get out of the car as well. Gerard frowns. 

“What? Did you want me to leave?” Frank asks.

“I just sorta thought that I scared you off,” Gerard says softly.

Frank comes around the car and takes Gerard’s hand. “I don’t scare easily.”

Gerard smiles and looks down at their entwined hands.

“Let’s get out of the cold.”

Gerard nods and leads them into the house. He hovers in the hallway. He can’t remember the last time he brought someone home, surely it hasn’t been since med school...maybe even pre med? Either way, it’s got his skin crawling, but Frank doesn’t seem to notice the outdated floral wallpaper or the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and carpet cleaner that Gerard has associated with home. 

“Want something to drink?” Gerard offers, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you invite someone into your home right?

Frank offers him a small smile. “Sure. Whatever you have is fine.”

Gerard walks into the small kitchen and Frank follows, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Gerard stares at him sitting in his kitchen for a moment because it’s the last place he pictured Frank. Not that he tried to picture Frank anywhere in his house. Gerard shakes his head and pulls out two cans of soda from the fridge and sets one in front of Frank.

“Thanks,” he says, cracking it open.

Gerard sits across from him and opens his soda, sipping slowly on the carbonated sugar. 

“So,” Frank says, “I’m not sure how long we can just put off this conversation.”

Gerard sighs and fiddles with the tab on the can of soda. “Yeah.”

Frank pauses then, “Want to tell me what happened?”

Gerard frowns and hunches in on himself. “I just have these moments,” he says lamely.

Frank isn’t having that bullshit, “No, tell me what that was.”

Gerard gets this weird _want_ to have Frank hold him while he tells him these things, and maybe it’s because he thinks that Frank will never touch him after the words leave his mouth. Or that Gerard won’t let him anymore, because he should never have tainted someone as beautiful as Frank with his twisted mind. 

“Sometimes,” Gerard starts softly, “I guess I get overwhelmed.”

“From working too much?” Frank asks.

Gerard nods. “Yeah, but also, it’s just who I am. I get, I _feel_ too much.”

“What’s too much?”

Gerard closes his eyes and tries to search; because he knows how it feels, but he can’t find the name. “It’s this tightening,” Gerard tries, “I, um, I have these thoughts that get too real sometimes.”

He jumps at the feeling of Frank’s hand’s on his, and opens his eyes. Frank is staring at him steadily, unafraid. And Gerard wished he had that bravery. “What thoughts?” Frank whispers, and the tone suggests that Frank has prepared him for the worst.

So, Gerard says, “Blood. Always the blood.”

Frank exhales. “Why?”

Gerard squeezes Frank’s hand and uses his other hands to trace invisible lines down his arms and to his knuckles, imagining the needles. “I had this procedure go wrong,” he says quietly, “really wrong. He bled out on my table and I didn’t do anything to stop it. I couldn’t, I was paralyzed from the sight of it.”

He hears Frank swallow and continues, “Mikey found me the next morning, covered in blood on the floor next to his corpse.”

“Jesus, Gerard,” Frank says, and it would have made Gerard flinch if the tone had been accusing, but it was worse. It was sympathetic, concerned, scared. For Gerard. He wasn’t scared for himself, he was worried about _Gerard’s_ wellbeing. 

“I made these rules,” Gerard whispers, to comfort himself. He nods, reassuring to himself that it won’t happen again. “Mikey meets each client first and I don’t do procedures after hours.”

Frank stills Gerard’s hand that is frantically tracing up and down Frank’s arm. “Ok, Gee,” he says softly.

Gerard looks at his hand in Franks and wants to melt under him. He feels so bone tired now and he just wants Frank to never let go of his hand. So Gerard doesn’t float away again.

He’s grateful that Frank doesn’t ask Gerard why he still does the procedures if they affect him like this. He understands, because he’s felt it too. That fascination and bliss. 

Instead, Frank says, “Let’s get you to bed.”

Gerard blinks and feels his head cock to the side like he hadn’t heard him right. Frank laughs softly and gets up from the table, pulling on Gerard’s hand. Gerard leads him through the house and down to the basement, which makes Frank laugh again.

“What’s it with you and basements?”

“You haven’t worked out that I’m a freak yet?”

“Oh, I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on you,” Frank teases. 

Gerard is glad it’s too dark on the stairs for Frank to see his blush. Frank hums when Gerard turns on the light and can see his room. He walks slowly around the perimeter, looking at the posters of Bowie, Leatherface, and Batman on the wall. He skims the titles of books on his bookshelf, picks up a few ceramic figurines to assess them. His hands ghost over the taxidermy bat that’s encased in resin. “Cool paperweight,” he says softly before seeing the stack of sketches on his desk. Gerard sits on his bed and watches Frank leaf through his designs. Some of them are of procedures, of different stages of slicing and blood. He knows that the ones towards the bottom are of Frank, and Gerard holds his breath as Frank makes his way down the stack.

“Oh,” Frank says softly.

They’re not violent. One is of Frank with his protective mask on, eyes smiling. Another of Frank laughing over a can of soda. One of just Frank’s hands with all his tattoos. 

“Gerard,” he says oddly, like there’s something living in his throat. 

Gerard looks down at his hands in his lap. The hands that create, but have also destroyed. He never realized how much power they hold over him. Frank’s hands slide over his and he feels the heaviness of that image deep in his heart. Weighing him down with want. 

He wants Frank. 

All that it encompasses. 

One of Frank’s hands move and Gerard feels it curl around his jaw and gently push. Gerard looks up at him, holds his overly expressive eyes. He wants this too. Gerard can _see_ that and it’s killing him, ripping him up in his guts that he can’t reach up and close the distance between them. 

Because Frank is a good person and would never cheat.

But, Gerard wonders how much has to happen for it to count as cheating. While Frank hasn’t betrayed his boyfriend by claiming Gerard’s body, he’s claimed his heart. And he feels like that’s so much worse.

Frank’s lips press against Gerard’s forehead and he closes his eyes, air leaking out of his nose loudly. His shoulders fall, and he hunches over in exhaustion. 

He feels the covers move, then Frank coaxing him down on the mattress. He closes his eyes once his head hits the pillow. Frank unties his shoes and slips them off, Gerard can hear them hit the floor and then the cover is pulled over him. Frank’s lips touch Gerard’s forehead again.

“Sleep,” he feels.

*

Mikey is there next to him when he wakes up. 

Suddenly Mikey is everywhere.

And when he’s not, Frank is there.

They make him cancel all his consultations and procedures for the week, and Mikey locks the computer in his room. Gerard spends the first day pacing the lower level until Mikey comes home and pulls him down on the couch to watch a movie. Mikey keeps Gerard’s feet in his lap and digs his thumbs into the arches even when Gerard is sure Mikey’s hands are starting to cramp. It helps though, the touch reminds him he’s still here. 

Frank comes everyday with burritos, falafels, bowls of greasy fried rice. Anything heavy that makes Gerard feel cozy and full. Frank always grins at him after he finishes eating, leaning back and putting a hand on his stomach. He hadn’t realized how much work was stifling his appetite.

And he just talks.

Tells Frank silly stories of when him and Mikey were growing up. More embarrassing stories from high school. He talks about premed, how hard it was to leave Mikey. And then he gets to med school, and his stories get more and more vague.

“Hey,” Frank whispers, “don’t do that.”

They’re laying outside in the backyard. Frank had made him get out of the house after showing up on the fourth day to find Gerard pacing again. 

“Do what?” Gerard asks, nose wrinkled.

“Omit details,” Frank clarifies, “You stop talking like yourself when you get to subjects that are scary.”

Gerard hums and looks up at the leaves that are blocking out the sun. He likes the way they look translucent under the sun like this, he can see all the veiny lines.

“You were telling me about assisting your first surgery,” Frank presses.

Gerard turns his head and grins at him. “So pushy,” he teases, “why don’t we talk about you instead?”

Frank rolls over onto his stomach and fiddles with a blade of grass. “That’s fair. What do you want to know?”

“What were you like as a kid?” Gerard starts.

“Too hyper,” Frank grins, “And sick all the time. My immune system was pretty shitty, still kinda is.”

“Does it take long to heal?” Gerard asks, thinking about the procedure.

Frank shrugs. “I don’t think so, I’ve never had any issues with my tattoo healing process.”

Gerard nods and watches Frank shred a blade of grass, comfortable. Gerard feels it too, ever since the forced break. He feels content here in the grass with Frank. Watching him move his hands. 

“How’d you meet your boyfriend?” Gerard whispers.

Frank’s hands still. “Gerard, don’t.”

“I didn’t think anything was off the table with us,” he says gently.

Frank frowns. “You know why.”

He does, really he’s not trying to be stupid. He knows that Frank is at the Way house everyday when he’s not at work. That he spends his lunch break here bringing Gerard cozy meals, then returning after dinner. That he stays well past midnight, watching movies on the couch because they weren’t brave enough to go back down to Gerard’s basement. 

“Where does he think you’ve been?”

“Gerard,” Frank warns.

“Tell me.”

“Working,” Frank sighs, “Working on signing a new band. I usually get pretty spacy with him when I’m kissing a band’s ass.”

Gerard grins, whether at Frank groveling to _anyone_ or the fact that he’s lying to spend time with Gerard. 

Frank is silent for a moment, calculating, then, “Are you still going to do my procedure?”

“Do you want me to?” He asks almost instantly. Because, it would be completely understandable if Frank was hesitant now. More than understandable, it would be healthy for Frank to be reconsidering what he’s gotten into. And there’s still time to back out.

Gerard _wants_ Frank to back out. 

Frank whispers, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

*

He really should take another week off.

At least that’s what Mikey wants. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, glaring at Gerard who is scribbling in his notebook while working on his third cup of coffee this morning. 

“Mikey, I can’t,” Gerard sighs, “This is a big procedure. Like, really big.”

Mikey leans back in his chair, the wood creaking from the shift of weight. “Yeah, I know. I scheduled it for you. Which is exactly why I think you need to put it off. It’s too big of a procedure for you to do right now.”

Gerard throws down his pen on the notebook and fixes Mikey with a look. “I can’t.”

But Mikey doesn’t back down, his eyes are just as hard at Gerard. And he’s not ashamed to admit that Mikey acted more like the older brother in their relationship than he did, that he was always the one taking care of Gerard when it should be the other way around. 

Gerard softens under Mikey’s unwavering stare, giving in. He sighs, “It’s not just for me. Mikey, you know the procedure. You know why I can’t ask them to wait any longer.”

Mikey’s stiff shoulders, slack at that and he sighs. He reaches out to take Gerard’s mug and sips at the coffee. “Yeah, I know.”

Mikey got it because the procedure was for two brothers who wanted to amputate their arms and have them sewn on each other. And to anyone else, it would have seemed outrageous, it would have seemed so crazy to even entertain the idea. But, it was Mikey and Gerard. And when Mikey came down to Gerard’s office to hand the application over, they just knew that it had to be done. 

Because they got it. 

They knew what it was like to feel that you shared the same body as your brother. 

Mikey slides the mug back over to Gerard. “This will be Frank’s third surgery?”

Gerard nods and he takes in Mikey’s expression, tries to find an answer there. Begs him to tell him to call it off, that Frank isn’t ready for this. That he finally sees it just as Gerard sees it. Maybe Frank will listen if Mikey is against it too. Maybe they can save Frank.

But, Mikey just gets up to refill Gerard’s coffee. 

*

The sound of the bone saw brings Gerard back to the operation room for a moment.

He focuses on the circular blade making its way through Avory’s left arm. He watches the blood pool around his saw, watches the blade turn red and the protective sheet under Avory soak. Once the saw meets no resistance, Gerard pulls it up and the limb falls away from Avory’s torso. 

Frank comes over to take the limb from Gerard and lays it on the second operating table that Caleb is laying on. He hands Gerard Caleb’s already severed limb. Gerard lays Caleb’s limb next to Avory and smiles, perfect fit. 

He looks over at Frank, who’s been quiet the whole time. His eyes are blank, holding no emotion and Gerard isn’t sure if that means he’s freaking out or he’s just really focused. 

Gerard doesn’t have time to focus on Frank right now though, he has to start reattaching veins and tendons. It’s a painstaking process that will no doubt leave Gerard bone tired by the end of the night. It was procedures like these that he wished he had someone to help him. He wished that this wasn’t Frank’s last surgery, that he’d want to stay and learn from Gerard.

Gerard finds that part in himself to nestle in while he shaves the bone and starts to put pins and wires in, setting the bones back together like a frame for a house. Then he starts to reattach the arteries and muscle. 

Frank doesn’t come over to watch Gerard, he stays on the other side of the operation room, which is starting to worry Gerard. He’s wondering if he did actually manage to freak Frank out enough now. That he won’t want to go through with his procedure now. 

Frank had been in high spirits despite everything that had happened with the last procedure he sat in on. He had bounced down the steps, freezing on the bottom stair when he saw the second operation table. 

Gerard held out his arms and said, “Surprise?”

Frank arched an eyebrow. “What are we doing?”

“Voluntary amputation,” Gerard said, watching Frank’s expression. He could tell that Frank was trying to stay cool about it, but the muscles in his jaw twitched and he was sure that Frank was focusing on not throwing up. 

He eventually asked, “Why?”

Gerard smiled softly and went back to laying out his utensils. “They’re brothers. They want to exchange arms.”

“I…” Frank began, then sighed and said, “I don’t understand.”

Gerard watched his reflection in the scalpel. Most people told him that he didn’t look anything like Mikey. He always thought they looked like the same person, you just had to look beyond the surface. They had the same goofy smile when they talked about comics or Star Wars. Their eyes watered when they watched _Armageddon_. Their nose turned pink around the third week of March when allergies hit them hard and their cheeks burned easily from embarrassment. They were the same person, but only the brothers could see that. “I don’t think I could really explain it right to someone who doesn’t have a brother. Or, I mean, not every sibling is as close as Mikey and I are I guess. Or as close as Avory and Caleb. Mikey is...he’s like another extension of me. Like a limb, I guess. He’s as part of me as any physical part of my body. When he hurts, I hurt. I don’t even remember what my life was like before Mikey, it was like I wasn’t even born until he was.”

Frank moved to stand in front of Gerard, getting his attention from the scalpel. 

Gerard smiled sheepishly, “I get it, you know? Wanting to have a part of one another like that. To always be together, no matter what. It’s comforting.”

Frank’s eyebrows knitted together. “Mikey would never leave you.”

Gerard felt his smile fall. “You didn’t see me when I was using.”

“He didn’t leave you,” Frank reminded him.

And Gerard doesn’t tell him about the darkness that’s in him. The darkness that he has been letting seep out in front of Frank. The kind that he’s had locked away even from Mikey, to protect him. 

“Gee?”

Gerard blinks, looking up from Caleb’s, no Avory’s arm. The surgery is done and he feels like he wasn’t even there. 

“Oh,” Gerard says, eyes focusing back on Frank’s. He looks ill, like he’s seen a ghost and ate five jars of pickles at the same time. “Frank?”

Frank shakes his head and rips off his mask, then rushes over to the sink and throws up. 

Gerard frowns and walks over to him, placing a steady hand on his back and feeling his muscles clench under it when he expels the contents of his stomach. “Easy,” Gerard whispers, rubbing his back. 

Frank spits in the sink, turns the facet on and rinses out his mouth. “What the fuck?”

Gerard’s hand stills.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you all?” He bites out, turning and staring at Gerard.

Gerard doesn’t know what to make of his expression. His lips are thin and pressed together, twisted in disgust. His eyebrows raised in a question. But his eyes still hold some warmth that Gerard has come to find a home in. 

“Frank…”

“No!” Frank yells, ripping off his gloves. “Why did you make me watch that? To just freak me the fuck out? Ok! Congratulations! You succeeded!”

Gerard reaches out to Frank, but he recoils from Gerard’s touch. Gerard frowns and takes a step back. “I thought, I knew this would push you...but, I thought you were like me.”

Frank exhales loudly, his chest heaves up and down. And he just stares at Gerard for a moment before whispering, “What?”

Gerard frowns and looks down at the floor. “I thought you could see the beauty in the horror.”

He wonders if Frank understands that he means so much more than just the body modification surgeries. That he thought if Frank could be a part of this world with him...he doesn’t even know. Gerard shakes his head, not knowing _why_ it was so goddamn important for Frank to accept him when he could never have him. 

He’s not yours to claim. 

But, fuck, does Gerard want him. He wants to sew himself to Frank. To be a part of him forever. Wants to live amongst the art on his body. Live under his warm eyes, his gentle touch that could never harm. He wants to feel the lips that he’s been fantasizing about for months.

And then Frank’s lips are on his. 

It takes Gerard a few seconds to catch up. To realize that this is really happening. Frank’s warm lips are pressed against his. Not frantically, just a gentle press. Testing, teasing, tasting. And then Gerard gasps and Frank grips Gerard’s hair and slants their mouths together, tongue dancing into Gerard’s mouth, cool from the water and for a split second he wonders if he should be grossed out that Frank had just thrown up. But this is his Frank. _His_ Frank. And Gerard has always found the beauty in horror. Love in the grossest places. 

He likes that their first kiss is surrounded by bodies on the operation tables. The metallic smell of blood in the air and the sour taste of bile on Frank’s tongue. This is them. Broken, gross, and disturbed. 

Gerard kisses off Frank’s mouth, tastes the salty nervous sweat from standing during a long procedure. He nibbles on his jaw, Frank’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he goes a little slack in Gerard’s arms. He tightens his hold, licking down to taste the scorpion tattoo. Frank clings to Gerard, pulls at the neckline of his shirt. “Gee,” he breathes. 

Gerard is moving. He’s walking Frank backwards into his office. Frank giggles a bit, and Gerard wonders if he’s thinking about the night they almost kissed. The night they talked about how Frank hasn’t had anyone but…

“Frank,” Gerard whispers, pulling back, he has to know. He can’t do this if he can’t have Frank completely. 

“Don’t,” Frank whimpers, “Please, I don’t…”

Gerard frames his face in his hands, searching his face. Trying to see if he finds the same hesitancy he saw at the consultation, when he tried to kiss him the first time. 

He doesn’t see it.

*

“I didn’t know,” Frank whispers. 

Gerard traces his spine with his tongue. “Didn’t know what?” He asks softly.

Frank rests his chin on his folded hands. They’re laying on the floor in Gerard’s office, which, ok, wasn't really Gerard’s first choice when he fantasized this moment. But, it was sort of perfect in its own way. 

“That sex could be like that,” Frank clarifies gently. His voice sounds so dazed, like he’s still floating down from an orgasm. Gerard grins smugly against Frank’s tailbone. 

Gerard doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get the image of Frank arched off the floor out of his mind. His lips hung open in surprise or ecstasy, maybe a bit of both, and eyes screwed tight like it was too much. 

Despite the urgency from the kiss, Gerard wanted to take his time. He laid Frank out on the floor and slowed them down. He took his time peeling off Frank’s clothes and licking every inked line on his body. He traced letters and images painstakingly slow, letting Frank’s pants and pleas wash over him. He waited until Frank was wound up tight, babbling incoherently against Gerard’s tongue before he even took him in his mouth. 

“Gee, you can’t,” Frank had panted, “I’m not going to last.”

Gerard hummed and took him deeper, let the smell of his skin and the weight of him in his mouth take over his senses. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so blissed and focused that wasn’t during a procedure. He couldn’t remember if he ever felt this grounded to his body. So attuned to the way Frank was gripping at his shoulders, how his knees knocked against Gerard’s temples. How his lips stretched and his jaw ached. 

And he couldn’t remember the last time he was so focused on another person. If he ever considered anyone under him, whether a patient or a lover, more than body to devote to. To turn to art and manipulate. To create. With Frank, it was more like he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t stop his body from reacting to him. Couldn’t stop shaking and tasting. He couldn’t stop his hands from caressing and teasing. He couldn’t help pulling those noises out of Frank. 

“Don’t stop,” he had whimpered. 

Gerard gripped Frank’s hand, held on until Frank’s body went taut and trembled and he cried out, flooding Gerard’s mouth. 

Gerard kisses back up Frank’s spine. “Like what?” He presses Frank for more. 

Frank’s silent for a moment, and Gerard is worried he said the wrong thing, but he whispers, “like I’m cherished.”

Gerard frowns, wondering what the hell kind of man Frank had been seeing if he didn’t feel cared for during _sex_. He drapes his body over Frank’s back, wrapping his arms around his narrow waist. “You are cherished,” Gerard whispers, kissing his shoulder. 

Frank turns in his arms, reaches up to push the hair out of Gerard’s eyes. He’s looking at him like…

“What?” Frank whispers, caressing his cheek. 

Gerard leans into the touch. “No one’s touched me like they weren’t afraid of me.”

Frank makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Gerard looks down to trace his own pictures into Frank’s skin. “You were after the brothers’ surgery.”

Frank’s hand stills, cups Gerard’s cheek. “There are things about you that I don’t understand, darker parts of you that I’m still wrapping my head around.”  
Gerard’s heart sinks.

“ _But_ , hey, baby, look at me,” Frank whispers and Gerard reluctantly meets his eyes, “You were right about us being the same. That we can find beauty in horror. Because, Gerard, you are so _beautiful_. Sometimes so blindingly beautiful it hurts.”

Gerard surges down to kiss him. He cradles the back of Frank’s head, pulling him off the floor and closer to him. Frank arches his hips up and Gerard gasps against his searching mouth at the feeling of them rubbing together. “Frank,” he whimpers. 

Frank nibbles at his jaw and his hand slides under the blanket that Gerard had draped over them, nails scraping at Gerard’s navel. 

There’s footsteps coming down the stairs and Gerard sits up to hold the blanket up more so that Frank is covered. Mikey stops midway with wide eyes and then he turns his back to them. “Oh! Sorry, um, I was just checking to see if the brothers’ anesthesia wore off...Gerard?”

Gerard presses his lips together to keep from laughing at the situation. “Um, yeah, we’ll get dressed. They should be waking up any minute actually.”

He waits until Mikey is out of view and the heavy door at the top of the stairs closes. He turns to Frank and his smile falls at Frank’s stricken expression.

“Frank?” Gerard asks softly, then, “The brothers wouldn’t have woken up yet, it’s…”

But Gerard can tell that’s not it. He turns back to him, leaning down to stroke the side of his face, “What is it?”

Frank squares his shoulders and pushes Gerard off him gently, but firmly. Gerard moves without resistance and watches sadly as Frank dresses hurriedly. 

“Frank, please,” Gerard whispers. 

Frank buttons his jeans and looks like he’s going to throw up again. “I have a boyfriend, Gerard.”

Gerard’s eyebrows knit together and he sits up, holding the blanket up to his chest. “I asked--”

“I’m not blaming you,” Frank rushes, “Not in the slightest. But, this was _wrong_. I shouldn’t have gotten carried away...I--”

“We’ve been dancing around this for--”

“--I should have stopped this a long time--”

“--You’ve always had a boyfriend, I knew better--”

“--this isn’t on you!” Frank yells, making Gerard’s mouth snap close. Frank pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly. “I’ve wanted this since we met.”

Gerard’s lips quirk up a little, but it falls when Frank’s eyes narrow at him. Gerard sighs, “Can’t we just go back to where we were being cute under the blanket…”

“You have patients about to wake up,” Frank says and he closes his eyes, “Oh my God, I can’t believe we just had sex with your patients in the other room. That has to break so many rules.”

Gerard grins a little. “To be honest, I bet Caleb would buy me a beer if I still drank.”

Frank rolls his eyes, trying to fight back a smile. “Not helping.”

Gerard reaches out for him. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

Frank sighs and leans back against Gerard’s desk. “I need to think about this.”

It feels like Gerard’s heart has dropped down to his toes. “Think about _what_?”

He doesn’t understand what there is to think about. He thought that Frank kissing him, that Frank _sleeping_ with him meant that he had chosen him. He had called Gerard beautiful, said that he was the beauty in all that was the horror of his profession, of his mind and desires. That the darkness hadn’t scared Frank away. He was beautiful. 

But he had never felt more like a monster than he did now. Naked under a blanket with another man’s boyfriend’s sweat drying on his skin. 

“I’ve only been with him, Gerard,” Frank whispers. 

Gerard clenches the blanket closer to him, feeling exposed and, if he was being honest, _used_. 

“Get out,” Gerard whispers, looking at the floor to hide the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Gerard…”

“ _Please_ ,” Gerard says in a broken voice.

Frank hesitates, but then Frank hears the denim of his jeans rub against itself and the heaviness of his converses hitting the wooden steps up to the club. Gerard waits until he hears Mikey call out a goodbye over the moody music to get up and start to get dressed. His fingers feel numb as he buttons and zips himself back into his clothing. 

Mikey comes down the stairs with a smirk, but it falls when he sees Gerard’s fallen expression. “Gee?”

Gerard wipes at his eyes. “Can you help me wake them up?”

Mikey stares at him for a moment, and Gerard silently begs him not to ask, not to prod or push right now. _Please_.

Mikey just wipes a stray tear from Gerard’s cheek and says, “Ok, let’s wake them up.”

*

Gerard lays in bed for the rest of the week.

“He hasn’t called?” Mikey whispers, crawling in bed behind him. 

Gerard shrugs and burrows further under the blankets. Mikey sighs and rubs at his shoulders. “Have you even checked your phone?”

He just shrugs again. 

“Gee,” Mikey breathes, “He freaked out. What did you expect?”

Gerard whimpers and Mikey sighs, hugging him close. “Gee, you just need to talk to him.”

“He chose him over me,” Gerard whispers, “He left me--”

“You told me you told him to go.”

Gerard sighs dramatically, “He was going to leave anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, Mikey. You didn’t see his face.”

Mikey tightens his hold. “He hadn’t been with anyone else but his boyfriend. And I know you, you push and you push people outside their comfort zones. You’ve been pushing him since you met, he was going to snap eventually.”

“Yeah,” he whimpers. 

Mikey rubs his back. “Just give him some time.”

*

Gerard wasn’t a patient person. 

Normally, he would have called Frank and begged him to come back. But he can’t get over that feeling that washed over him, made him feel dirty. 

He hadn’t felt like that since he was using. Back then it didn’t matter how people treated his body, because he wasn’t treating it with respect either. He wouldn’t say he was a hoe, but he definitely was looser with his body back when he was sky high on cocaine and his bloodstream was filled with vodka. 

But, the difference was that he couldn’t remember their hands on him anymore. Most of the time, he couldn’t remember their hands the next morning. Frank’s touch still felt like it was burned into his skin. Like a personal brand that marked him Frank’s forever. 

After he allowed himself to wallow in his bed for a week, he kept himself busy with planning procedures. After the brothers, there really wasn’t anything interesting for a while. Mostly just implants and teeth filing. 

He hasn’t really been back to his office since Frank left, it feels tainted now. But, he has to go in and look at some of the new applicants. He also wants to sanitize his operation room, which he tries to do weekly on top of sanitizing it after each procedure. 

Gerard is cleaning his instruments when he hears the door buzz. He frowns, looking at the clock, it’s late. The club has even closed at this hour. Gerard hasn’t been able to sleep, seeing the image of Frank running away behind his lids. 

The door buzzes again.

And again.

Gerard drops his needle driver and makes his way up the stairs. He’s expecting Mikey, maybe he forgot his keys or something. But when he opens the door, he sees bare skin and tattoos. 

“Frank?” Gerard whispers, reaching out to pull him inside.

“Where the fuck is your coat?” He hisses, rubbing at his arms to create heat. Frank still hasn’t looked at him, his chin is to his chest and he can’t stop shaking. 

“Hey, Frankie, hey,” he whispers, pulling him closer.

Frank howls in pain when Gerard grips his shoulder and he jumps back. He frowns and tugs on Frank’s arm gently, to turn him around. And he nearly passes out. 

There are two hooks crudely shoved through the skin of Frank’s shoulder blade, blood coating the metal curves of the hooks to the points. The skin around the entry sites are inflamed and are glistening with blood and sweat. And Frank is sobbing.

“Ok, ok,” Gerard whispers, turning him back around. He cradles Frank’s face with his hands, keeping them steady. “I’ve got you, ok?”

Frank nods and sniffles. “Hurts.”

“I know,” he replies, kissing his forehead. He squats down and lifts Frank up, “Wrap your legs around me.”

Frank does and lays his head on Gerard’s shoulder, burying his face into Gerard’s neck. Gerard sways them for a moment, whispering, “Shh, I’ve got you now.” Then he makes their way down the steps. He carries him through the office and sets him down on the operating table. 

Gerard rests his forehead against Frank’s. “I can’t, I don’t have the key to Mikey’s safe for the pain meds,” he whispers sadly, “I’ll use local though, ok? I’m sorry, baby, I can’t--”

“S’okay,” Frank whispers back. 

Gerard kisses him, short and sweet, then steps away to get to work. He goes over to the sink and washes his hands, trying to pretend that Frank is not on his table right now. Tries to breathe and put his gloves on without shaking too much. This isn't the same. This isn’t going to, Frank’s blood doesn’t calm him. This procedure, this is healing. Fixing harm. This is not beautiful. 

Gerard gathers his supplies, then moves over to Frank, placing them on the tray. He prepares the local anesthesia and then lays his hand gently on Frank’s lower back. 

“Just a small pinch,” he says softly.

Frank nods, so Gerard administers the local quickly and then sighs, wondering the best option to remove the hooks. The hooks that have been used aren’t the ones meant for suspension. These just look like large fisherman hooks, the ones with an extra hooked part at the end so that fish couldn’t escape. Gerard leans forward and places a small kiss on the back of Frank’s neck. “Do you want me to walk you through what I’m doing?”

“Yes, please,” Frank croaks with a hitch in his voice. He’s terrified. 

“I’m going to have to cut the hooks out,” Gerard says, keeping his voice as low and soothing as possible, “I can’t just pull them out without hurting you more.”

Frank nods. 

“The local should help, but you might feel some of it. Mostly just pressure and me moving the hooks, ok?”

“Just do it,” Frank whimpers.

“Ok, ok,” he breathes and takes his scalpel from the tray. He dips the blade in Frank’s skin and lets out a breath he was holding as he traces along the hook. It’s deathly quiet as he works, the only sound is Frank’s shaky breathing. Gerard knows the only way to get him to calm down is to fix him as quickly as possible even if he just wants to wrap him up and comfort him. This though, this he can do. He can heal him even if he can’t fully take away the trauma. That will have to wait until later. 

He keeps his hand steady as he releases the first hook from Frank’s skin. Frank jumps at the noise of the hook hitting the metal tray that Gerard has pulled near them. “Easy,” Gerard murmurs, putting a hand steady on his neck. He rubs his thumb into the taut muscles, “Just breathe.”

He waits for Frank to take a deep breath and exhale before starting on the second hook. Once he gets it out, Frank sags a little, like the weight in his back being lifted has made all the difference. 

“Just going to stitch you back up, sweetheart,” he says gently, getting his needle driver and clamp. 

Frank nods, “Can I lay down for this part?”

Gerard sets down his utensils and helps Frank shift so he’s laying on his stomach on the operation table. He runs his fingers through Frank’s hair, watching Frank’s eyelids fall half way. “Almost done,” he whispers, “Then you can go to sleep.”

Frank nods, looking absolutely drained. The adrenaline must have left his body now, and Gerard wonders what sort of shape he’s been in in the week or so since he ran out of here. If he had been struggling to eat or sleep like Gerard had. And then to be put through this…

“Gee,” Frank whimpers, snapping him out of his mind. 

Gerard presses a kiss to his forehead before picking up his utensils and getting back to work. Gerard tries to seperate the wound from Frank, to keep his hands still as he pulls the skin back together with thread. He doesn’t want to think about the man who did this to Frank. Because, if he does, he’s going to lose himself in fury. An anger he’s never known before. It licks at him seductively, and Gerard has to push it aside in order to finish his task. He has the desire to track this man down and strap him to this table. To pull out all his fingernails one by one. 

But his need to heal Frank is stronger.

He ties off the thread and places a hand on the small of Frank’s back. “Alright, honey, you’re done.”

Frank releases a shaky breath.

And starts to cry.

Not loud sobs like he had when he came through the door. These silent tears cut through Gerard harder though. The loud sobs had been a hot, sharp knife piercing through his heart. But watching Frank lay on his stomach with his hand up to his face, almost sucking on his thumb like a child, and shedding silent tears is like a dull knife sawing slowly into his gut. 

Gerard squats down and pats at his head. 

“Baby, let’s get you in bed so you can heal,” he says gently.

Frank’s eyes widen, so Gerard adds, “I’m taking you to my house. We can sort everything out in the morning if you’re up to it. There’s no rush, ok?”

Frank nods slightly. 

Gerard places a large bandage over Frank’s wounds and takes his gloves off. 

“Ok, let’s get you off the table.”

It takes them a while to maneuver Frank off the table and onto his feet. “Ok, easy,” Gerard whispers, helping him up the steps. Gerard wraps his coat around Frank and leads him out into the cold. He makes sure the door is locked before steering Frank to his car. “How did you get here?” Gerard asks as he eases Frank into the back seat. “Here, lay out on your stomach, it’s not a far drive.”

Frank lays across the backseat on his stomach and answers, “I walked here.”

“Without a coat?”

Frank doesn’t answer and the anger creeps back into Gerard’s veins. He forces himself into the driver’s seat and focuses on the road to get Frank quickly to his and Mikey’s house. He helps Frank into the house, pass Mikey’s horror stricken face, and down into Gerard’s bedroom. Gerard goes to his drawers and pulls out some pajama pants. “Here, let’s get you changed out of those bloody clothes.”

Frank nods silently and lets Gerard gently take off his jeans and help him into the cotton pants. Then, Gerard coaxes him to lay on his stomach on the mattress. “I’m going to go see if Mikey has some painkillers here that you can take.”

Frank just presses his face into Gerard’s pillow and lets out a shaky breath. Gerard frowns and hurries up to Mikey.

“What the hell is going on?” Mikey asks at the top of the stairs, clearly about to come down and find out for himself.

“His asshole of a boyfriend put _fishing_ hooks into his back. Guess Frank told him I wouldn’t do the procedure and decided to do it himself,” Gerard bites out.

Mikey blanches. “We need to call the police.”

Gerard narrows his eyes at him. “Are you insane? We can’t do that. What the hell do you think is going to happen to our practice if the police get involved.

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking about that when Frank’s down there recovering,” Mikey hisses.

“No, Mikey, listen. If the police get involved, then I can’t help Frank,” Gerard blurts out.

Mikey narrows his eyes and reaches out to take Gerard’s hand. “What do you mean?”

Gerard shakes his head. “Listen, do you have anything you can give Frank for the pain? I gave him some local but that's wearing off.”

Mikey fixes him with a look, then sighs and goes to his room where he keeps a backup supply of pills for the club. He returns and ignores Gerard’s outstretched hand.

“You know I’m not giving you these.”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “I’m not a fucking junkie anymore, Mikey.”

“You’re on edge like you used to be,” Mikey points out, “Go sit in the kitchen. Make a cup of tea, I’ll be back up in a minute.”

Gerard sighs and hovers at the top of the stairs for a moment before going into the kitchen. He grabs a soda instead of making tea though, just as a little act of rebellion. 

In the quiet of the kitchen, away from Frank’s tears and Mikey’s worried expression, he allows himself to sink into that anger that spiked his heart in the operating room. He grips the table and falls into the darkness that he has been trying to squash down to something manageable. But he doesn’t want to be rational and he doesn’t want to manage this emotion that’s coursing through his body. Gerard lets it lick up his veins like a savaged lover who’s touch starved, and Gerard almost whimpers at its intensity. 

He’s never wanted to harm anyone before. 

Some could argue that what he does for a living is sick. That what he does is damaging and twisted. Gerard finds beauty in it. Sees life in horror. 

But, that’s not what this is. He wants to rip this faceless man in his mind to shreds. He wants to strap him down and dig his scalpel into his flesh, dig out his organs one by one and let him watch as they squirm around in Gerard’s hands. Wants that pump him with adrenaline so he can’t pass out. He wants--

“Gee?”

Gerard blinks and he wonders how long Mikey has been standing there watching Gerard fall into his own mind. 

“I thought I said tea,” Mikey scolds softly, taking Gerard’s soda and turning on the kettle. 

“How’s Frank?”

“Nicely doped up,” Mikey answers, pulling down two mugs. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I already did.”

“I mean, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Gerard scoffs and digs his nails into the wood of the table. “You can’t tell?”

Mikey leans against the kitchen sink and takes him in, sighing. “I know you’re upset,” he says gently, “Is it bad right now? The anxiety?”

“It’s not anxiety,” he bites out. 

Mikey comes over and pulls Gerard’s hands from the table and rubs them between his hands. “I don’t envy you for feeling so much all the time,” he whispers, “I wish I could take some of it from you though, just so you could have some relief.”

Gerard feels his eyes grow hot. “I want to hurt him.”

“I know.”

“No, I want to _hurt_ him.”

Mikey squeezes his hands and sits down in the chair next to him. He cups Gerard’s hands in his and blows hot air on them, as if he could thaw them from the hate that’s encircling them. “You’re an artist, Gerard. You create things, you don’t destroy them.”

“Sometimes destruction can be beautiful.”

Mikey stares at him, looks through him and Gerard wants to wiggle away. There are times when their bond is too strong for Gerard. Days when he wishes he could hide from Mikey so he wouldn’t feel so ashamed all the time. 

“Are you talking about that asshole’s destruction or your own?”

 _Is there a difference?_ He wants to ask. Because until Mikey said that, he didn’t know that there wasn’t. Until Mikey said that, he didn’t really acknowledge that destroying this person, even for Frank, would finally destroy Gerard. This battle that he’s been fighting all these years, trying to keep the monster at bay, would be over. And he would be a casualty. Because, and he’s terrified to admit this, if he lets himself indulge in the darkness, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to come out of it again. 

“Do you think I’m mad?” Gerard asks instead. 

Mikey kisses Gerard’s knuckles. “Never. I think you have too much going on in your mind for you to handle. And that it’s darker than either of us would like for it to be.”

“Are you scared of me?”

Mikey narrows his eyes at him. “Of course not. How could you even ask me that?”

“Would you be scared of me if…” Gerard trails off, he doesn’t really have to finish that sentence. Not from the dread that dances across Mikey’s face. 

Gerard waits in silence, feels his palms grow sweaty in Mikey’s hold.

Mikey swallows, like he’s finally taking that bitter pill that he’s refused to swallow, that his brother is a monster. “No,” he answers softly, “You’re my brother. I’ll never be scared of you.”

Gerard leans in and kisses Mikey’s forehead.

Mikey squeezes his hands. “I’m scared _for_ you,” he whispers.

Gerard’s lips hover over Mikey’s forehead and the kettle goes off.

Neither of them move.

*

Mikey could force all the lavender tea he wanted down Gerard’s throat, and it still wouldn’t lull him to sleep. Mikey got up twice to kick Gerard off the computer, trying to act like he wasn’t looking at the awful diagram of a procedure on the screen. 

The third time, Mikey physically pulled him onto the couch and wrapped his lanky limbs around him like restraints. “Sleep,” he growled, and Gerard stayed on the couch the rest of the night even if he didn’t sleep.

Mikey pushes Gerard back on the couch when he tries to get up and check on Frank the next morning. 

“No,” Mikey says gently, “I need to give him more pills and you need some distance.”

“But--”

“No,” he says more firmly, and Gerard sags against the couch. He turns on the tv and puts on _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ just so he can pretend that the asshole boyfriend is on a meathook and not out there probably ordering a douchey coffee from Starbucks. 

Mikey comes back up from the basement and says, “He’s ok, mostly sleeping it off.”

Gerard nods and keeps his eyes on Leatherface.

“You know, you’re not reassuring me that you’re ok when you’re watching teenagers get sawed in half without blinking.”

“I’m blinking.”

“Gerard.”

Gerard blinks dramatically. “See?”

“I hate you sometimes,” Mikey chuckles, sitting next to him. 

They watch the movie in silence for a few moments before Gerard whispers, “Will you help me?”

Gerard knows the weight of what he’s asking. It’s one thing to accept this nature in Gerard. It’s another thing to facilitate it, to participate. 

But, if the situation was reversed and Mikey was asking Gerard to help capture, torture, and bury someone, he would do it without question. 

Which is really why he’s not that surprised when Mikey whispers, “Yes.”

*

It takes a couple days of Mikey monitoring Frank’s pain before Gerard goes down to see him. He brings him his favorite burritos that he had fed Gerard when he was recovering from his episode. Frank’s face lights up when he sees him come down the stairs, and it’s a kick in the gut. He feels like he can’t breathe, but he forces himself down the rest of the way and sits carefully on the side of the bed. 

“I brought you sustenance,” Gerard murmurs, handing him the burrito on a bed tray with a bottle of water and a can of soda, “Mikey says you need the sugar.”

“Did Mikey go to med school too?” He asks.

Gerard chuckles, “No, I taught him a lot of what he knows about pain management. I had to after, well, I couldn’t be trusted around pain pills.”

Frank sits up and leans gingerly against the pillows. “He’s kinda maternal.”

Gerard laughs fully at that, because, fuck, Mikey _is_ maternal. 

There’s a beat where the silence is awkward, then Frank takes Gerard’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Gerard winces. “What for?”

Frank scoffs.

Oh.

Gerard shrugs and tries to take his hand back. Frank holds tighter, “Gerard, I wasn’t choosing him over you. I just...I needed time to process.”

Gerard sighs, “Eat your burrito.”

“I want to explain what happened.”

“Tomorrow,” Gerard whispers, because Frank still looks too fragile. His eyes still look too wide, the skin around them too red from crying. “Tell me tomorrow.”

Frank holds Gerard’s gaze, then nods. “Ok.”

*

Gerard felt sick about looking up Frank’s address from his application for maybe five seconds. Mikey looked like he was going to throw up the whole drive there and tried to distract himself by playing with the radio. Gerard hadn’t been able to notice any of the songs that played through the speakers, just focused on the miles between him and the man that hurt Frank.

Frank’s apartment complex was in the bad part of town, where no one really noticed their neighbor. Or at least tried not to notice them. 

“At least it won’t be suspicious,” Mikey whispers, “People disappear from here all the time.”

Gerard nods and leads Mikey up to 4B. 

Mikey held Gerard’s gaze as he pulled out Frank’s key. A moment of second guessing if Gerard needed it. Mikey would go through with this if this was what Gerard wanted to do. But, he would also walk Gerard back to the car if he decided that he couldn’t do this. Either option wouldn’t make Mikey think less of him. 

Gerard smiles at Mikey, the kind of secretive smile that they used to share when they would sneak into their mom’s closet to look at what she had bought them for Christmas. For a moment, it feels like they’re kids again, just playing a game. Mikey grins back and Gerard is breathless for a moment. Breathless for the longing that nearly knocks him over, for things to be that easy again. To come home and eat hot pockets on the couch with Mikey and giggle so much that chocolate milk came out their noses. He wants it just to be a game again. 

Mikey reaches out and hooks his pinky around Gerard’s.

Gerard closes his eyes and lets that be the only sensation he feels for a moment, before he opens his eyes to stick the key in the door and twist it open. 

Frank’s apartment doesn’t look like him at all. The couch is this ugly orange color, that Gerard assumes is supposed to be artsy and there’s paintings hung everywhere that look like it was bought from a bin at Target. Mikey is all business, wanting to hurry through the apartment, but Gerard can’t help his curiosity. He flips through the DVDs near the television, scoffing at all the horrible action movies. 

“Gee, come on,” Mikey whispers.

Gerard grins at the stack of car magazines sitting on the kitchen counter. It doesn’t even look like Frank lives here. Gerard follows Mikey down the hall to find the bedroom. 

Nestled in the middle of the bed is a man that Gerard wouldn’t think would be Frank’s type at all. Though, he knows he’s being a little childish. He stands over the sleeping man, looks over his blond moppy hair fanned over the pillows. He has a tribal tattoo on his arm and his nipples are pierced. 

Mikey raises his eyebrow at Gerard from the other side of the bed, like he’s thinking the same thing. 

Gerard just grabs the syringe out of his back pocket and jams it in the guy’s neck. His eyes fly open and Gerard waits until their eyes meet. “I’m going to fuck you up,” he murmurs, then pushes the sedative into his bloodstream. 

*

Frank’s up and moving around the next day. Gerard wakes up on the couch to him laughing with Mikey in the kitchen. Gerard closes his eyes and lets the laughter warm him. He feels so cold after last night.

Gerard and Mikey had brought Frank’s boyfriend to the operation room. Gerard had him strapped down to the table and used metal cheek redactors to push his mouth wide open. Gerard had stood over his head, stroking his cheek, like a lover waking him up. 

The man’s eyes had flung open and he jerked in his restraints, started crying and begging incoherently around the metal in his mouth. 

Gerard was vaguely aware of Mikey standing in the corner as he scraped his scalpel up and down his cheek, not breaking the skin yet. “You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten a dummy to practice on,” he murmured, “Of course those were fake bodies.”

He tapped the blade on the man’s temple, “This is so much more effective though, being able to work on real flesh. With something that _bleeds_.”

The man started sobbing and tried to break free. 

“You hurt Frankie,” Gerard whispered.

The man’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t realized why this was happening to him until now. And that flash of recognition in his eyes boiled Gerard’s blood. He admitted to it. He’s guilty. 

“Gee?”

Gerard opens his eyes and smiles gently at Frank, who’s holding out a glass of orange juice.

“Look at you,” Gerard whispers, “Out of bed and everything.”

Frank grins. “Yeah, I’m feeling better.”

Gerard sits up and takes the orange juice, taking a sip and appreciating the sugar. “Thanks.”

“Mikey said you had a long night,” Frank says, “Another procedure?”

“Sort of,” Gerard answers and is relieved that Frank doesn’t push the issue. He’s just trying to make small talk, Gerard realizes. He’s out of his element here. 

Gerard sets the orange juice on the coffee table and takes Frank’s hands. “I know there’s a lot we should talk about,” he starts, “But, I’m just glad you’re ok.”

Frank leans forward so that their foreheads are resting against each other. “Thanks to you.”

Gerard brings their tangled hands to his lips. “I’ll take care of you, Frankie.”

Gerard looks into the kitchen and sees Mikey sitting there with a mug of coffee. He knows that he wouldn’t eavesdrop, so he asks, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Frank frowns and leans in closer to Gerard. “I didn’t tell him for a few days,” he begins softly, “I, I wasn’t sure how I wanted to leave him.”

Gerard’s heart lurches at that. “You were going to leave him?”

Frank snorts, “You thought I was just going to fuck you and then disappear?”

Gerard shifts on the couch, embarrassed. He fidgets with Frank’s hands in his, not making eye contact.

“Gerard,” Frank says incredulously, “Did you really think I just wanted to sleep with you and that was it?” 

Gerard shrugs. “It’s not really that hard to believe,” he whispers, “People use each other like that all the time. I’ve been used before, and I used people too.”

“I’m not like that.”

“Frank, I didn’t--”

“I’ve only slept with one man my whole life,” Frank says, “Sex isn’t casual to me, I promise you that.”

Gerard hesitates. 

“What?” Frank presses.

Gerard sits back and lights a cigarette. “You left me to go back to him,” he says, blowing out smoke.

Frank narrows his eyes. “No, you told me to get out.”

He winces at that, because, yeah he had. He had been hurt. “You were going to leave, I wanted it on my terms.”

“That’s kind of an asshole move.”

“So is cheating.”

Frank takes his hands from Gerard’s. “Yeah, I know. It’s not the way I wanted--”

“You wanted?”

Frank scoffs. “God, Gerard, Mikey was right. You’re so clueless.”

“You talked to Mikey about this?”

“Mikey gave me the talk,” Frank chuckles, taking Gerard’s orange juice and sipping at it. 

Gerard grins at Mikey’s figure drinking coffee in the kitchen. He’s hunched over his phone, probably texting Ray. Gerard feels that swell of affection hit him whenever he looks at his brother. And the fact that Mikey was up last night helping him wash the blood off his hands.

“Gee, breathe,” Mikey had whispered, scrubbing the blood from under Gerard’s fingernails.

The anger that had washed over Gerard when he saw Frank’s boyfriend understand why he was strapped to the operation table prevented him from thinking clearly. He hadn’t put gloves on, he just started slicing Frank’s boyfriend’s tongue open. He grinned a little at the blood pooling in his mouth. “Yeah, tongue splitting is messy. Frankie knows about that,” he had said casually.

Mikey’s eyes had darkened in the corner.

“Why’d you stay?” Gerard had asked while Mikey forced his hands under the stream of water.

Mikey didn’t answer for a while. He waited until he had patted Gerard’s hands dry. “I needed to see it,” he said quietly, “I need to see how bad it gets.”

Gerard had frowned. 

Mikey framed Gerard’s face with his hands. “I get it. I know that you need to do this, work it out of your system. I know there’s a darkness in you and what that man did to Frankie was awful,” he said slowly, stroking Gerard’s cheek, “I need to see how bad it can be, so that I can see the signs in the future. So I make sure this never happens again.”

Gerard looks at Frank now, wondering if he’d be as accepting as Mikey. If he’d understand that he was doing this for _him_ just as much as he was doing this for himself. 

*

Gerard smirks at the muffled scream coming from under him.

“I can’t hear you,” He muses, “I know, I know. That’s because I sewed your mouth shut. But, I couldn’t have you scaring Mikey’s customers upstairs.”

He rips out another fingernail and watches the blood pool at the end of his index finger. 

“It wasn’t the first time he hurt me,” Frank had whispered last night.

Gerard paused the movie they had been watching, turning in his bed to watch Frank’s expression. “What?” He asked, trying to keep his voice soft.

Frank rolled onto his stomach and hugged Gerard’s pillow. “He didn’t like, beat me or whatever. The...hooks, was the first time he physically hurt me.”

Gerard reached over and ran his fingers through Frank’s hair. “You can hurt someone without laying a finger on them,” he whispered, thinking about Frank’s reaction to him asking about his boyfriend at the record release party. 

Gerad pulls out another nail and grins.

So much better than therapy.

“That’s what I meant,” Frank whispered, “When I said I didn’t know, I didn’t even know that sex with him was wrong”--he pressed his lips together to hold in a sob-- “I didn’t know until you.”

Gerard had wrapped his arm around him, careful of his healing back, and kissed his temple. “He can’t hurt you anymore,” he whispered, “I’ve got you now.”

Frank tilted his head up and captured Gerard’s lips with his. It was an awkward angle, but Gerard kissed him back softly. Frank had other ideas though, he bit Gerard’s bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. Gerard felt himself tremble and turn Frank over so he was on his back, gently laying him against the pillows before bruising his lips. 

Frank pulled Gerard to him, slipped his hands under his shirt and clawed at his skin. Gerard bit back a moan, he knew that Frank needed this to heal. Knew that he needed to take back something. 

Gerard sat up to pull off his shirt then helped Frank remove his without irritating his wound. He leaned down and kissed gently down his chest and stomach, unbuttoning his jeans when he reached them. He pushed Frank’s intensity down long enough to undress him gently. Kissing and caressing his hips, licking his thighs. Trying to soothe the waves crashing under his veins. He wanted Frank to know how loved he was, how Gerard was going to treat him with nothing but care. 

“Need you,” Frank bit out, as if strangled by it’s intensity.

“I’m here, baby,” Gerard whispered back, licking the curve of Frank’s foot. 

Frank whined and reached for him. “Now, need you _now_.”

Gerard crawled his way back to him, kissing his lips, fighting against the urgency that Frank was seeking. Only for a moment, then he let Frank take whatever he needed. 

He lost himself in the heat and sweat, the licks and bites, but only for a moment. 

This was about Frank healing.

So, he shifted them so that Frank was straddling him. Frank’s eyes crinkled in confusion at first, then when Gerard placed sure hands around his hips his eyes dimmed in understanding. He needed this. Needed to be able to have a say over what happens to his body. Needed to take charge. Needed control over Gerard. And Gerard leaned back against the bed, sighing. He’d give him this. He’d give this man anything. Everything. 

*

Gerard circles his patient on the table. 

“Today is the day,” he says softly, “You finally get to see Frankie.”

He doesn’t stir, after hours of having his nails removed, tongue split, mouth sewn and just Gerard’s taunting, he’s almost desensitized.

Almost. 

“You want to do what?” Mikey had hissed.

Gerard flicked the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray on the kitchen table. “It’s for Frank.”

Mikey covered his face. “It’s one thing for you to do this, but now you want to bring him into it. Gerard…”

“He needs to heal,” Gerard whispered.

“Yeah, in _therapy_.”

“He’s like me, Mikes,” Gerard said softly, “I see it. Everytime we do a procedure together, I see it.”

“Ok, that’s doing a real body modification surgery,” Mikey tried to reason, “That’s different. You’re asking him to help you torture his exboyfriend.”

“No,” Gerard corrected, “I want him to perform the same procedure that was forced onto him.”

Mikey’s eyes narrow, but his lip quirked a bit. Almost too small for anyone to notice, but Gerard did. Gerard knew Mikey like he knew himself. He knew that Mikey would understand. 

“I’ll bring him after I close down the club.”

Gerard smiles when he hears the heavy door at the top of the steps open. 

“Gee?”

“Down here,” he calls up to Frank.

He listens to Frank come down the stairs then walk through the office. “What are you…” He freezes and Gerard watches him take in the image of his exboyfriend on the table. “Doing,” he whispers. 

Gerard walks over to him and takes his hands. “I know,” he murmurs.

“Gerard--” Frank’s voice breaks.

“I know,” he says softly, squeezing his hands. 

“I, what do you, what is this?” He asks, near hysterics. 

“He’s here for you to practice on,” Gerard says gently.

“Practice?”

Gerard brings his hands to his lips. “When I was lost, this saved me,” he whispers.

“I’m not a surgeon,” Frank argues.

“You don’t have to be,” Gerard says gently, “I’ll walk you through it. You can assist me until you get the hang of things.”

Frank backs up, almost walking back into the office. “Wait, you want me to...what? Do what you do?”

“I know it helps you too,” Gerard whispers, “I see how you are after the procedures.”

“I threw up the last time!”

Gerard chuckles, “So did I, my first major surgery. It’s ok. But, you can’t tell me that you’re not fascinated by this.”

Frank narrows his eyes. “Yeah, but that’s,” he sighs, “Gerard, this isn’t a hobby!”

“No, it’s something that can heal you,” Gerard says gently, “It healed me, it can heal you.”

Frank closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Ok, so let me assist in more procedures. Not this.”

Gerard kisses his knuckles. “He hurt you,” he says gently, “He forced a procedure on you. I’m giving you the option to do the same to him.”

“I don’t know if revenge is going to help,” Frank whimpers.

Gerard pulls Frank into his arms. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs, “The choice is yours. You always have a choice, Frankie.”

Frank nuzzles against Gerard’s neck and sighs, letting himself melt into Gerard’s embrace. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, swaying them a bit.

It feels oddly romantic, Gerard holding Frank while his tormentor lays strapped to the table behind them. Sick, twisted.

Beautiful.

“Will you walk me through it?”

Gerard tightens his hold. “Of course.”

Gerard has to lead Frank over to sink to wash his hands, trying to treat this like any other procedure. He pats Frank’s hands dry with a paper towel and puts the gloves on his hands. He places the mask over his face and kisses his forehead before getting himself set up for the procedure. 

Gerard has Frank wait by the sink while he turns their patient over onto his stomach. He smirks a little at the muffled screaming that coats the room. He looks over at Frank. His eyes are wide, but his hands aren’t shaking. 

Gerard holds out his hand, “Come here,” he says gently.

Frank comes over and Gerard gestures to the hooks he has set on the tray. “This is actually a pretty easy procedure. Not too much blood, if done right,” he tells him gently, “Really, it’s just a piercing. I know we had talked about rings for you, but I thought there was something kinda poetic about using the same hooks he used on you.”

Frank nods, his eyes narrowing a bit. Becoming more focused and sure. 

Gerard reaches over to grab his pen. He reaches around Frank to place two dots on their patient’s left shoulder blade. “You want them spaced evenly, so that the weight isn’t disproportionate,” he tells him. 

He hands him the pen and watches Frank make his own dots on the other shoulder. They aren’t spaced perfectly, so Gerard points to where he should mark. “A little wider,” he corrects him. 

Frank fixes the marks and hands the pen back to Gerard. “Good,” Gerard praises and hands him the first hook. “This isn’t going to work like a normal suspension hook,” he reminds him, “But it’s ok for you to practice on.”

Gerard watches Frank’s mask move and his eyes crinkle in a smile. 

Just like him, Gerard thinks, he’s just like him.

“Insert the point in the top mark, then hook it through and out the second mark. You want to make sure you’re only going through the skin, not muscle,” he tells him, “But you don’t want to do it too shallow either or it won’t hold.”

Frank nods. 

“Just find the sweet spot,” Gerard murmurs, watching Frank insert the hook and curving it up and out the other end. 

More muffled wails.

Gerard hands him the other hook once he has the first one secure, and watches with awe as Frank dips the hook into the skin and curves it perfectly. No hesitation, no fumbling. Just sure hands.

“Perfect,” Gerard praises, “Let’s test out your work.”

He pulls down his mask and grins at Frank, who looks a little confused. Gerard gestures to the ropes that are hanging on the other side of the room. He had come in early to hook carabiner clips into the exposed metal pipes in the ceiling. He threaded ropes through and tied them around D-rings. Not the best set up, but enough to try out Frank’s work.

Frank pulls down his mask. “Oh.”

Gerard and Frank undo the restraints, and there’s a brief moment where their patient tries to fight them off, but it’s a weak attempt after being strapped to the table for days with only an IV to keep him hydrated. Just on the brink of death. 

They get him hooked onto the D-rings, then Gerard hands Frank the rope slack to pull. Frank takes the rope and stands in front of his exboyfriend, staring him in the eyes as he starts to pull. Their patient rises higher and higher, and Gerard feels that sense of pride.

He made this.

He gave Frank this. 

This gift that had healed Gerard, he was passing along. 

Frank looks up at their patient suspended in the air, kicking weakly.

And then there’s a sickening rip and blood dripping on the floor. The suspended body shifts diagonally, and then the second hook rips through his shoulder and he falls to a bloody thud on the ground. 

Gerard wraps his arms around Frank, pulling his back against his chest. 

“It’s ok, baby, your first time is never great,” he murmurs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> The final line was written long before I reached the end of this fic. I just thought it was such a sassy, fucked up call back to when Gerard and Frank were talking about sex, points for you if you caught that ;)
> 
> Alot of the people I talked to while writing this did NOT seem into it at all, so I was really worried about posting this. But, like I mentioned, I like to push my limits and explore things that might seem a little odd for people.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed if you made it through.


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